


Sins of the Past

by Rogercat



Series: Tales of the Warg Rider [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adopted Children, Children, Dark Past, F/M, Family, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Female Maedhros, Female Maeglin, Gen, Gossip, Past Relationship(s), Past Violence, Personal Growth, Rebirth, Relationship(s), new life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-04-30 20:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 105,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5179004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogercat/pseuds/Rogercat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Sequel to Painful Meetings) Rûsa has finally been allowed to be reborn in Aman, but for his mother Maedhros and her family, past sins from the First Age is not forgotten so easy. And naturally the presence of Rûsa is going to start questions and rumors about him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rebirth of the two cousins

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: This is the sequel to Painful Meetings. In this story, we will follow Rûsa as he faces a totally new life in Aman and his fight to survive in this unknown world of freedom.

Fourth Age of the Sun, year 12. Seven years had now passed since the Rebirth of the Fëanorians and their father Fëanor. For the past years, they had been living in Formenos, the stronghold where Fëanor once had been exiled to for 12 Years of the Trees. Yet now Formenos were no longer a place of exile, it had grown into a real city over the past 3 Ages and famous for its mix of Noldor and Avari populations. While not all of the Avari Elves lived there all year around, it was still the biggest one of the chosen meeting points for the nomadic Avari tribes.  

“This was a nice trip with the Wood clan. Do you think we can try that again?” asked Celegorm as Fëanor’s whole family was returning to Formenos after spending a month-long travel trip with Taurion’s tribe. Despite that things sometimes could be a little awkward between Maedhros and Taurion because of what had happened between them in Angband, the House of Feanor had gotten the honor of becoming honorary members in the Wood clan.  

“And risk you boys getting drunk like that again to the point of almost starting to strip in front of everyone? Don’t even think about it.” warned Nerdanel, showing that she still was not too happy over the events that had happened the evening before. Similar agreements was heard from her two law-daughters where they were riding beside their husbands. Lucky Maglor and Curufin were wise enough to keep their mouths shut while the others laughed friendly.  

“I do not think I will taste that wine again…” moaned Amrod, as he held a hand to his forehead as a sign of the hangover he still had. Caranthir prevented the older twin from falling out of the saddle with a light push to his shoulder.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

When they almost were back at the gate to Formenos, they noticed that some of the fellow blacksmiths in the city seemed to wait on them.     

“Is something wrong? I hope that it has not been anything really of a crisis during the month that we were away?” asked Fëanor as he rode up, being in the front of the group of riders that was his many family members.

“No, sir. Not in that kind of way. It is just…well, maybe one hour ago or so, there was some new arrivals from the Halls of Mandos. And…one of them is…”

The blacksmith did get to finish what he was about to say, as suddenly Huan caught the scent of someone he had not smelt in a very long time and hurried ahead with a loud bark.

“Huan, wait!”

“Sorry, we have a hunting dog to catch before he frightens someone of the new arrivals half to death.” Celegorm excused himself before riding after his hunting dog. Sighing, Fëanor nodded to the others to come as well.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Following after Huan was fairly easy, as he went straight to the house where Fëanor and Nerdanel lived. While most of their children had moved out over the seven years after their Rebirths, Maedhros and Caranthir were still living with their parents for different personal reasons.

“Ah! Huan, no! Down! It is not the right moment for your friendly greetings I am afraid!”

It was Celebrimbor, dressed in the typical light blue robes that signaled that he was among those who just had been Reborn, who tried to keep Huan on a distance with one hand and fighting to keep hold of something he was carrying with his other arm.

“Huan, what are you doing? Get over here, your overgrown flea-bag!”

A sharp whistle from Celegorm made Huan leave Celebrimbor in peace. Signing in relief, Celebrimbor adjusted his hold on the cloth bundle he was carrying, happy over that Huan had not knocked him to the ground. While Huan was a gentle hunting dog, he still was the size of a medium horse and weighed as such too. He could remember it happening a lot during his childhood.

“Who on Arda is the poor soul that your dog almost attacked in all his friendly eagerness,Tyelko…Oh! Telpërinquar! My boy!”

When Astarë, Curufin’s wife, saw who it was, she started to cry in happiness as she went to embrace her only son, who had been a half-grown child the last time she had seen him way back in the Years of the Trees 1495. 

“Ammë…? Ah, please don’t embrace me yet, it is a little hard since I am carrying something in my arms…”

It was not that Celebrimbor meant to drive away his mother, that much was clear, rather he seemed to want that the whole family could take this inside the house. Giving some quick orders to his younger sons to get the horses into the stable and bringing their travel bags inside the house once that was done, Fëanor got Celebrimbor inside.   

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Once inside the house, Curufin said:

“We have just started to wonder when you actually would be Reborn, son. Atar insists on not coming to the royal court in Tirion until that _both_ of his grandsons were here and…well, you can guess what people’s reactions on that is. Saying that it will be a repeat of the events that once lead to Atar’s exile here in Formenos and all that.”

Celebrimbor swallowed hard. He had been warned about this in the Halls just before he and Rûsa had left to be given their new bodies, so he was not so very surprised to hear it.

“I am sorry for not arriving earlier. But the final state before the Rebirth was very hard on Rûsa, all of suddenly he got into an very deep nightmare about his time in Angband again and it took some time for Lord Irmo to banish everything from the nightmare out of his mind. From what I know, it was a flashback taking place just before the Fall of Gondolin. Do I need to mention that a certain Fallen Maia were present in that nightmare?”

As he spoke, Celebrimbor removed his cloak a little so the Fëanorian family could see the cloth bundle he was carrying in his arms. Seeing exactly what it was that her nephew was holding, Maedhros brought her hands to her mouth, her eyes widening and she looked like she was about to cry. There was Rûsa, peacefully sleeping at the moment, looking no older than one year old. His new little body showed no signs of the many scars that once had covered his first, adult body, apart from his V-shaped scar on the left side of his face.

“I do not know why the Valar put Rûsa’s soul in the body of a one-year-old Elfling, but my best guess is that they want to give him a second chance to have a real childhood here in Aman.”

“And naturally people will first mistake him for an eighth, _ very_ late-born Fëanorian as the result of our parents marriage being back to almost normal again, before we can reveal that he is Nelyo’s son…I have overheard people making bets on just that subject.” said Maglor in a slightly worried voice. Before anyone else could speak, Maedhros had carefully taken her reborn son from Celebrimbor’s arms and hurried upstairs to her own chamber. No one seemed surprised at her actions.

“Let Nelyo deal with her boy right now. This is her chance to finally be the mother to her first-born that she never got to be in the First Age.” commanded Nerdanel as she placed one travelling bag in her husband’s arms and nodded to Astarë to take care of her son.

“Right, I got a letter with me as well. It tells of the exact bodily and mental amount of damage my cousin suffered in Angband, so there are suggestions to how we can help him get free from his past…” 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It had started to rain outside when Maedhros entered her own chamber with her son in her arms. Carefully placing Rûsa on the bed, she opened the window a little to let in fresh air into the chamber after being gone for a whole month, but she also drew together the curtains so it became darker in the chamber.

“I remember myself how painful it was for my eyes the first times I saw the Sun rise on the sky. My eyes had become used to darkness after the Darkening of Valinor, the exile to Middle-earth and then the long year in Angband while I carried my son to full term…”

The memories were painful, even after all this time. But Maedhros refused to let the past sour this moment. Not now, when she finally had her son back to life. Picking him up again and sitting down in her private rocking chair so the slow, steady movements would calm Rûsa if he awoke soon, Maedhros could not help but notice how underweight Rûsa actually was even in his new body. He did not look like a corpse, but it was still something of past malnutrition seen in his face.                          

“My poor boy…you have such a long road ahead of you…everything will be so different for you here…I know, I remember just how hard it was for myself to start trusting my own brothers again after that Fingon saved me…I was so afraid…so afraid that they could harm me and give me pain…”

It was a strange, damp smell in the air around him. Like that of a lot of falling water from a small water fall. Rûsa was pretty sure that in Angband, this kind of smell would never be allowed to be felt by the slaves. The slaves were meant to be kept on a tight hold, using the allowed food and water along side the ever-present fear of punishment to keep the slaves in line.

“Where…is this place…? I don’t…know it…”

His survival instincts, those who had helped him survive for so long in Angband, were screaming at him to wake up. To get up, to fight before someone spotted that he was in a weak state right now. But for some reason, he could not wake up. Rûsa wanted to wake up, but it was impossible. Something seemed to keep him in sleep, and it brought up memories of times when Sauron had used him as test subject for new drugs meant to bring the victim agony from the inside.  

“No…not again! Not again! I don’t want…!!”

There were arms holding him still, did that mean he was about to get chained down again?

“Rûsa. Rûsa, calm down. It is nothing dangerous here. Mother is here.”

That voice, that scent…

Slowly, Rûsa opened his eyes. At first, everything was extremely blurry and he could not make out anything. Then, the colours started to get steady, allowing him to focus his black eyes on a long, copper-red braid. Following the braid, Rûsa came to see Maedhros' face. She was very careful to not make any sudden movements that might frighten her son. An unexpected movement or loud sound could cause panic in Reborn people who had been enslaved in Angband for a very long time.  

“Rûsa, do you remember who I am?”

His black eyes were wide in shock and disbelief, but to Maedhros' great relief, he did a faint nod. The shining in his eyes betrayed that he was about to start crying. She did not speak anymore, just gently held him close as she allowed him to take in the new, strange environment around them.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Maeglin entered Rog’s smithy just as he was about to take out a message pigeon from its cage.

“Hello there, Rog. Long time no see.”

“Greeting to you as well, lady Maeglin. Nice that you could come, I will get that design I mentioned in the letter.”

Out of the former Lords of Gondolin, Rog was the one who had forgiven Maeglin the quickest back in the Halls of Mandos when he had learned that she had been taken to the horrors of Angband before involuntarily betraying the Hidden City of Gondolin. Few knew about it, but apart from being the oldest former Lord of Gondolin, Rog were also a former slave of Morgoth who had managed to escape from Angband just in time for being able to follow the Noldor on the Great Journey to Aman.

“Here it is.”

It was a design of one small and one large dagger, a mix of Elvish and Dwarvish skills that would fit Maeglin’s personal style very well. After all, she had not been affected by her few visits to the Dwarves with Eöl during her youth in Nan Elmoth for nothing. 

“It looks good. Ada Eöl will like it as well. I can already hear the more pious lords and ladies at great-grandfather Finwë’s court alongside queen Indis complaining about that it is not proper for a lady for wear weapons.”

Rog snorted in disagreement. That she was more of a tomboy than a feminine woman was a very old issue for Maeglin, though Aredhel failed to see anything wrong in it alongside Eöl who simply was pleased in that his only child did some kind of physical work instead of being “ _a quiet, pretty little doll without personality to show up for possible suitors_ ” as Eöl often called the high-born ladies at the different royal courts in Aman. In private, Maeglin and Aredhel had to agree with him in that.

“Sometimes people seems to forget that lady Maedhros was a female warrior back in the First Age as well the leader for her siblings.”

“Yeah. She was not named prince Fëanor’s heir as his first-born for nothing despite that she was born as woman.”

Looking around, Maeglin noticed something on a working table. A golden necklace with a set of emeralds, with a matching set of earrings and an emerald tiara. She held up the necklace carefully for a closer look.

“This is new for coming for you, making jewelry. Have you finally made up your mind about stop living alone and starting to court a chosen lady for possible marriage?”

“No, that is for a customer. He broke a hidden gift meant for his bride-to-be and needed some help to fix it.”

Knowing that Rog was not very fond of lying or when people was nagging on him about his private life in that it was such a shame that he never had shown any interest in marrying, Maeglin did not ask any further about the jewelry.  

“Well, thanks for the design. It will be fun to test this kind of dagger.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in Formenos, Maedhros still held Rûsa close to her body as she carefully used the rocking chair to move back and forth. He was still not saying a single word as he looked around in her chamber, but at least his breathing had slowed down a little.  

“It is no dangers here, sweetheart. It is only my own chamber.”

Her sleeping chamber, be it in Tirion or here in Formenos, had always been big and airy with lots of light, a great relief when knowing how dark, small and confined the prisoner cells and slave pens could be in Angband. A careful knock were heard on the door, the sudden sound startled Rûsa and he looked around with a frightened look in his black eyes. Trying to calm down Rûsa was not easy, not when his whole little body was as taut as a bowstring.

“Please enter.”

It turned out to be Amrod and Amras, both carrying something as they entered their older sister’s chamber.

“Hi, sis. Since we all know how difficult it can be with solid food under the first days after a Rebirth, we made some chicken broth for both of our nephews. There is a plate with some scrambled eggs and fried bread for you here too.” explained Amrod as he put the tray on Maedhros' writing desk and poured up milk in two glasses for them. Meanwhile Amras revealed that he had been carrying a few extra blankets in a more child-friendly size, which he now placed on Maedhros' bed.

“If there is something else you need, do not feel shy about calling, sister.”

The two red-haired twins tried their best to not talk too much or not move too fast, feeling Rûsa’s glare on them all the time they were in the chamber. After all, they remembered very well how badly Maedhros herself once had reacted on the barest hint of physical contact under the first difficult weeks after being saved from Thangorodrim.

“Count on that I might stay in here for the rest of the day. But I will try to bring down Rûsa tomorrow for a short while, just to give him a chance to meet the whole family without a lot of extra stress the very first day he is Reborn.”

Nodding in agreement, Amrod and Amras were quick to leave the chamber before their presence stressed Rûsa too much. The scent of the chicken broth filled the chamber as Maedhros left the rocking chair and instead sat down at the writing desk with Rûsa in her lap. Gently and wit hgreat patience, she managed to finally convince her son to taste a spoonful of the chicken broth. However, she did not expect him to suddenly start crying. Whatever it was a reaction on actually tasting food that was not meant for a slave meal or the events of the day catching up with him, Maedhros did not care. Putting down the spoon, she held Rûsa close to herself again, letting him cry without feeling any shame over crying in front of her.     


	2. The first morning in Aman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa's first morning in Aman, with his new family

The next morning, Maedhros woke up early. Rûsa was still sleeping in her arms where they laid together in her bed, one of his small hands holding a steady hold around her hair as if he was afraid that she would vanish into thin air. As much as Maedhros wanted to remain in bed, there were chores around the house that she needed to do during the day and it would not go to be late.

“Rûsa? Sweetheart, can you wake up?”

A new light in his open eyes revealed that Rûsa woke up at her gentle voice. He blinked first, then nearly fell out of the bed in fright because he first did not remember where he was, forcing Maedhros to catch him before he landed on the floor.   

“Easy now, sweetheart. It is never a good start on the day by falling out of bed. You would not be the first Elfling to fall out of my bed like this…”

Rûsa gave Maedhros a perfect look of disbelief at hearing her words, although it could also be some confusion as he could not understand much Quenya yet. After all, the Quenya spoken here in Aman and the Quenya in Middle-earth were different.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Down in the kitchen Maglor, Caranthir and Curufin had already started on making breakfast. Because of that Celebrimbor and Rûsa had arrived the day before, the whole family had stayed over at Fëanor’s and Nerdanel’s house instead of going home to their houses in Formenos.

“Well, if you asks me, the best cover story for Rûsa would likely be that he is a Avarin orphan of unknown parentage who currently got reborn…what are you looking like that on me for?” wondered Maglor, pausing in his movement when his younger brothers gave him a odd look.

“Have you forgotten your own history when it comes to fostering brats, Káno?”

“Hey, no sibling-fights this early in the morning, thank you. Or Nelyo might get annoyed at us for causing a racket.” said Curufin as he cut the four omelettes in enough pieces for all the family before laying each bite on a plate. Muttering under his breath, Caranthir cut up some bread to add on the plates while Maglor fixed the tea water. Soon, almost everyone had woken up and come to the kitchen for breakfast.  

“Ah, there you are, Nelyo. Did everything go well yesterday?” asked Maglor’s wife Rainiel to Maedhros as she gave Celebrimbor a cup of tea, being ready to help if he dropped the cup because of the heat.

“Pretty much. However, at the moment…well, you can all see for yourselves…” answered Maedhros with a nervous laughter from the stairs with her son in her arms, where Rûsa refused to let go of her with his own little arms around her neck. His black eyes looked around on the group of Elves, spotting the various degrees of family resemblance between them. The fact that his face was clearly far too serious for someone in the body of a one-year-old Elfling, did also create some rather heavy feeling in the air. In fact Celegorm, Curufin and the twins, who was the hunters in the family, all got reminded about a wild animal that had gotten into a trap and now were ready to fight for its life and freedom at seeing the badly hidden scowl on Rûsa’s little face. Sensing a chance to make him let go of her, Maedhros carefully tapped Rûsa on top of his head once with a hand while saying:

“Hey, no such faces in the morning, Rûsa. That is not a way of greeting the family.”

Rûsa blinked in confusion over that his mother did so. What had he done wrong?

“Tyelpë, try at least to keep yourself awake during breakfast.”

“S-sorry, ammë…it is just that I am really tired…”

Celebrimbor hid a new yawn behind a hand, his tiredness being a lesser common syndrome among those who were newly Reborn. Once he had eaten his breakfast, he would go and take a nap on the sofa in the living room.

“Well, since we don’t have any stools for so young Elflings down in the basement, it looks like you will have Rûsa sitting in your lap for now until that we have fixed…oh!”

Suddenly Rûsa made something unexpected: as quick as a weasel, he was snatching a piece of bread as he slipped quickly down his mother's green clothes and hurried off into somewhere of the house with his steal, indirectly causing Maglor to trip over with his chair when he tried to catch his nephew. Leading to that Maglor landed on his back.

“Rûsa, get back here! I don’t want you to do that!” called Maedhros in anger after him as he vanished, not pleased to see her son having that kind of habit. Sure, she could understand that it had been a meant for survival in Angband, but here in Aman stealing food were not allowed.

“Looks like we have a long way to go when it comes to teach him how to behave like a gentleman…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Taking cover under a sofa in the living room, Rûsa made sure that the adult Elves would not be able to reach him very easily. Of course, he did feel some shame at making his mother angry, but his instincts and old habits of survival had made him steal the bread.

“At least I can hide better in this smaller body for now…even if it is very annoying to not be able to reach anything…”     

Rûsa began to eat on the bread, letting the warmth spread from his stomach and fill all of him. In Angband, being allowed to eat freshly baked bread were as rare as not having to wear chains for the slaves. In other words, never. The bread had chopped nuts and herbs inside to add more flavour, so for Rûsa who had grown used to not taste any flavour at all, this was something totally new.

“So warm…”

Even that small piece of warm, freshly-baked bread were enough to fill Rûsa for now. The body of a one-year-old toddler along with living on very little food in his first life seemed to fit together for now. Against his own will, he felt sleepy and as he laid down on his side, he fell asleep.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_It was not too many hours after the end of_ _Dagor Aglareb in FA 60. The few survivors of the battle in Morgoth’s army had been quick to hurry back to safety behind the gates of Angband just before the gates had been locked to keep the Noldor enemies out. Right now, those survivors was being in the Orc healers care, whose task was to ensure that they survived no matter what._

_“Be still, Fire-head!” hissed a female Orc impatiently_ _when Rûsa_ _winced in pain. The newly formed V-shaped wound on his left cheek were bleeding even after being cleaned._

_“Bloody Elves and their swords…this wound needs to be sewn.” said the female Orc at getting a more clear view on the wound that was going along his jaw line and in a straight line from his ear down to the jaw. Rûsa became more pale than what he already was, he knew from a early age that it would mean no pain-killer before they started to sew the wound tight._

_“No…!”_

_He made a attempt to get away, but a pair of strong hand took hold of him and Rûsa was knocked down on a table, then held steady in place by those strong hands. Gritting his teeth, Rûsa realized that this was a battle lost and thus remained still on the table, trying his best to not show any sign of pain or making a movement that only would_ _prolong the pain when they sewed up the wound. The longer he laid stiff as a board on the table, the faster he could be able to get away from here later._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A cracking sound above him awoke Rûsa from the short nap. Someone, a adult, had laid down on the sofa above him. A thin summer blanket hung from the laying-down person, the blanket being long enough to almost reach the floor. Rolling over so he now laid on his stomach and lifted up a part of the blanket so he could peek out from his hiding spot, Rûsa watched as several pairs of feet walked around in the living room.

“He was not in any of our sleeping chambers upstairs, and with the sun shining outside, I doubt that he would be ready to enter the yard.” said Caranthir as he looked under achest of drawers after Rûsa. 

“The kitchen is out of question to hide himself as we were there, and the doors to Atar’s private forge is locked as well. Besides, he would not be able to reach the door handle yet in a few years. My son is without doubt skilled in survival tricks he learnt in Angband, but I am afraid that those skills are not in his flavour this time.” sighed Maedhros, moving over to the sofa to put a pillow under Celebrimbor’s head so he slept more comfortably during the nap. Muttering in his sleep, Celebrimbor moved around on the sofa so he now laid on his other side instead, with his face inward towards the wall. Only, that movement caused the blanket to move upwards and Rûsa tried to crawl deeper into the darkness under the sofa to avoid being seen.

“Well, I am staying here during the forenoon, I have a couple of everyday tunics for Rûsa that needs to be done since there is no clothes for toddlers in this house anymore: Celebrimbor was much older when he left this house for coming with us to Middle-earth. Knowing you, sister, I would not put it above Rûsa to start growing like a weed once he starts putting on some proper weight on that small body.” said Caranthir as he sat down with crossed legs in front of the sofa, then opened his small sewing box of embroidery accessories to pick up a needle with some white embroidery thread to continue the pattern of a simple white bird on the front of a small blue tunic.

“Says one of the little brothers who used me as a walking tree for climbing when you were small.” Maedhros answered in a less than amused voice, before she noticed a movement behind Caranthir. With her long legs, Maedhros only needed 4 long steps to cross the living room, before she bent down on her knees beside the sofa and reached out to catch Rûsa. It was not easy to get a hold of him, but Maedhros had not survived being the oldest of seven siblings and a horde of younger-born cousins without getting some skills in catching small children in nearly impossible places.

“Got you, son. Now, you need a late breakfast as you missed eating with us others in the family.”

Rûsa made a very good attempt to escape his mother’s hold again, but this time Maedhros was more prepared.

“ _Let go of me, Mother!_ ” protested Rûsa in a broken mix of bastardized Sindarin, Quenya and something that could only the language of Morgoth’s Orcs, as he tried to worm his way out of her grip.

“Remember Atar’s words along with what the Valar had written in the letter our nepnew brought: that in order to Rûsa to learn proper Quenya, we will not use Sindarin around him.” called Caranthir softly after her so he did not wake up Celebrimbor from his needed nap.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Tirion, Gil-galad was helping Tuor looking for a book about herb-lore in the royal library inside the royal palace, when they heard a strange sound from the open window.

_Splash!_

“Did someone get pushed into the fountain below this window?”

A look outside on the yard below by the window, revealed that it was Maeglin who had pushed an important-looking young male Elf headfirst into the fountain. Maeglin herself was not very quiet, she actually screamed insults in the Sindarin spoken in Nan Elmoth and the language of the Avari Elves in the Metal clan down on the noble, who looked rather shocked over being pushed into the water. Some of the words were such shocking ones that Gil-galad privately wondered exactly what kind of words his infamous uncle-by-marriage Eöl actually had taught his cousin as a Elfling back in the First Age.

“Ah. I remember her using a couple of those words back in Gondolin when some of the other Lords had drunk a little too much and Glorfindel suddenly kissed her out of the blue. Do I need to mention that he ended up in the fountain like that as well?” commented Tuor when he saw the scene. By now, Maeglin had chased away the unfortunate young fellow and judging on the way she was a shaking a fist after him, it would be for the best that he did not try and show up around her again for a long time.

“Again, I wonder why great-grandmother Indis insist on playing match-maker for my poor cousin, when she still shows so clear signs on still being emotionally scarred when it comes to relationships. I do not think it is that cousin Maeglin wants to be alone, but as I see it, the problem rather lies in that Maeglin…seem to be waiting on _someone_. She is getting frustrated, and clearly she assesses other young Elves as if they are missing something important…”

As on right in time, Maeglin called from below the window:

“I heard that perfectly clear, cousin Ereinion! As for that I pushed that guy into the fountain, so I do think that you would do the same if you were suddenly kissed by someone despite giving the other Elf clear signs on that you want to be alone!”

“She got you there.” chuckled Tuor with a amused smile as Maeglin left the yard.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Once she had gotten into a small alley for a little more privately, Maeglin let out a deep breath. There was no way that she would allow Gil-galad to know that he had been almost right in his words.           

“It is true that I do not like if someone suddenly kisses me out of the blue, and yet, it feels so wrong in a very different way…!”

Somehow the soft, full lips of the young Elf-noble had felt all wrong against her own lips. In her mind, she had expected the other’s lips to be thin, dry and nearly nonexistent because of how often the owner had bitten his own lips to not make a sound because of pain or another reason he needed to be quiet about. The small scars on the lips…

“Agh, why am I always seeing _him_ of all people every time someone tries to kiss me!? Is it because Rûsa was the first man outside my direct family that kissed me, or is it a after-affect of that he was the one I was given to as a concubine…?”

Maeglin was in emotional chaos. She knew that she was not in love with Rûsa: love at first sight had not happened between them back then in Angband. No, it was the feeling of acommon suffering, of being outcasts among other people, which hadunited them more than anything else. 

“Rûsa…that day I find out that you has been Reborn, I am going to seek you out because we are going to need a serious talk about things between us! I did not dare to do so in the Halls of Mandos, for there was a lot of healing needed for you back then, but once I learn that you are out of those Halls…!”  

Pulling the hood of her travel cloak over her head, Maeglin picked up her travel bag and went to the stable close by. Ever since she first had learnt about queen Indis' attempt to find her a suitable husband among the nobles here in Tirion, Maeglin had taken up the habit of seeking out her father’s kin among the Metal clan among the Avari Elves just to avoid any match-making from her great-grandmother. She knew that Indis only meant well, but Maeglin knew that she shared some of her different tastes in the opposite sex with her mother Aredhel. A normal husband simply did not fit their personalities, they needed something different in their marriage to keep their spirits alive. Sometimes being different could be one’s greatest strength, but also at the same time their greatest weakness.


	3. Meeting others outside the family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa's first view of Formenos

About a fortnight had now passed since Celebrimbor and Rûsa had been Reborn. During those two weeks, the whole family’s patience had been put to test because of the many different situations that they had to deal with their newest family member. It was not that Rûsa created trouble on purpose, rather the opposite because he did not want to be in anyone's way or because he wanted to show that he was useful.

“Ah! Rûsa, you are not allowed to be inside the forge yet! You might harm yourself by mistake with that small body of yours!” said Fëanor when he turned around and saw his younger grandson trying to drive the far too large spade into the stacked coal in front of him.

“But…but…” pleaded Rûsa in confusion as Fëanor picked him up and carried him out from the forge. This scene had become a daily event over the past two weeks as someone caught Rûsa attempting to do some kind of bodily work that was far too difficult or heavy for his new child-body.

“I am not angry with you, I was just shocked at seeing you inside the forge,” explained Fëanor as gently as he could, as he picked up a clean rag from his leather apron and tried to clean off the soot from Rûsa’s hands. Neither Nerdanel or Maedhros would like to find out that he had tried to sneak inside the forge again.

“But I am not allowed to do _anything_ here…”

Or at least, anything that Rûsa was used to do in order to show himself useful. He was greatly confused over how little he was allowed to work, and while he could understand why they stopped him from doing things that would harm his child-body, it was still very frustrating for the former Warg Rider.

“Rûsa, can you please come over here?”

It was Maedhros who called for her son from the kitchen.    

“I am coming, ammë!”

Out of habit from Angband, Rûsa knelt quickly for his maternal grandfather before leaving, much to Fëanor’s well-concealed irritation.

“ _For the last time, Russafinwë: you do not need to kneel or bow for us!_ ” he said carefully as the younger one of his two grandsons hurried away to the kitchen, mentally promising himself to try even harder to carefully break that habit out of his grandson. No one of his blood should act like that in fear for being punished for disrespect.   

~X~X~X~X~X~X

When Rûsa entered the kitchen, both Maedhros and Caranthir seemed to be checking on something in his hand.

“Is it too light in colour? Taurion did say that black fabric is the best choice, but I wanted to make the star of our House on it…”

“It looks good, and I am sure that it will fit.” said Maedhros just as her son inquired behind her:

“What will fit who?”

Rûsa’s speaking of Quenya had slowly grown better since his first arrival to Formenos, he was often heard using his family’s classical th-sound instead of the normally heard s-sound when he spoke, although he still could slip into broken or mixed-up Sindarin when he got nervous, scared or frightened about something.

“Good that you were able to come here so fast, sweetheart, uncle Moryo and I need to fit something on you.”

“New clothes again?” asked Rûsa in a puzzled voice. His mindset, still much that of a slave, had very difficult to understand the necessity of so many different clothes as his family members wore. Like how they did not just need a single tunic and pants along with a set of sandals, but a whole set of clothes and different kind of footwear for everyday work, special working clothes for being in the forge, hunting clothes, robes for special events…     

“No new clothes this time, but something to use in order to shield your eyes from the sun.”

In his hands, Caranthir held forth a veil. Not a sleeping mask as it might look like at first notice, but a little longer. It was short enough to just cover Rûsa’s black eyes and there was small emeralds acting as weights in order to prevent the veil from being lifted in wind.  

“You have spoken of that you want to go outside, but that the sunlight hurts your eyes because you are not used to the light. And we can’t exactly take you out in the moonlit garden every night, you have to get used to the sunlight as well.”

One of their biggest problems so far had been Rûsa’s eyes, used to the darkness of Angband and the faint light of torches along with fire. He was easy blinded if he was out in the sun or watched the sunlight for too long, and by instinct tried to find the darkest place in the house during daytime to protect his eyes.

“Now, turn around so we can see if the veil needs adjustment…”

Helping Rûsa to tie the cords to a steady knot that he could hide under the high ponytail as he wore today, Maedhros was pleased with how it looked on her son. Since it was not unheard about that reborn Avari Elves or former slaves in Angband needed veils to shield their eyes from the sun, no one would question about the veil.

“We have decided that you should go with us to the market today, Rûsa.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

With the House of Fëanor being the official rulers of Formenos, it was perhaps no wonder that Maedhros' absence during the last two weeks had attracted the attention of the population. Of course, some Elves wondered why, but most guessed that she simply had been embroiled in one of her father's new ideas or something similar. After all, Fëanor still had that famous mastermind of his and could get something on his mind out of the blue. But he had learnt a very hard lesson thanks to the Silmarils, so few believed that he would try something new. So the sight of Maedhros, with a small Elfling sitting on her shoulders, naturally caught a lot of attention.

“Who is that Elfling?”

“I am pretty sure that lord Telpërinquar was carrying something with him at his Rebirth a fortnight ago…”

“Yes…I remember seeing him holding something as well.”

“Did not lord Makalaurë say something about his nephew finding a orphaned Avari child in the Halls and wished to give the child a home until that his real parents were found?”

“I believe so.”

“But look more close…the child’s hair colour…”

“No, it can’t be a child born from neither lady Rainiel or lady Astarë, their condition would have been noticed a long time ago if they had been with child.”

“Same with lady Nerdanel…”       

Maedhros was surprisingly calm despite the whispers, but Rûsa was a little more anxious. As careful as he could, he held his small fists around his mother’s head. The veil worked as it should, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looked around. Formenos was very airy and despite that it was mostly made out of grey stone, the city had a complete different feeling than Angband. The shadows here were gentle ones, promising shade from the sun if needed.

“It is so different here from what I am used…I can’t sense any fear here at all…rather, it is a very open atmosphere of honest feelings here…”

Despite his own nervousness, Rûsa dared to shyly look around on the different market stands, seeing a lot of food he had never seen before. Of course, he remembered seeing his various uncles and grandfather using some of those food stuff while cooking, but the scents and pretty much all about this food were unfamiliar for him.

“Rûsa, please be a dear and climb down on the ground for a few moments. I would rather not have you fall headfirst into a stand because I need to bend down a bit.”

“Yes, ammë.”

The fact that Rûsa called Maedhros “mother” caught attention, of course. But before people could start whisper to each others again, a small horde of Noldorin Elflings came running along the street as they tried to catch a ball.

“Lady Nelyo!”

“Lady Nelyo is here!”

“Come and play with us, lady Nelyo!”

While Rûsa would have preferred to stay with his mother, he got a bit frightened at seeing all the Elflings come running towards them both and rushed away by instinct towards the tallest spot in the market place, namely the large oak tree in the middle of the yard. Children being children, the Elflings mistook it as an invitation to play and ended up following after Rûsa while Maedhros calmly paid for a packet of fresh carrots from the stand she was standing at. But that did not mean that she did not keep an eye on her son.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“It is all right, Rûsa. They just want to play.” explained Maglor, who was sitting at the foot of the oak tree and had just been used as an unexpected foot stand by his youngest nephew to climb up in the tree. Said nephew was currently laying flat on his stomach on a thick branch, glaring nervously down on the other Elflings who had gathered under the branch where he was.

“I-I d-don’t want to play, uncle! W-what they called playing b-back in _that place_ , normally involved pain of some kind!”

This was not the first hint of about his past life in Angband that Rûsa showed in some way. The first time he had dropped a plate by mistake, he had nearly gotten a nervous breakdown in terror of being punished.  

“They are not going to harm you. Come down now instead of being up there, Rûsa. Your mother will be sad otherwise.”

Using Maedhros' feelings as bait was a low blow, Maglor knew that, but it was also the best way of making her son agree to something, as Rûsa hated to make Maedhros sad or angry. Muttering under his breath about annoying uncles that did not seem to understand _why_ he wanted to be left alone, Rûsa climbed down from the branch. By now, Maedhros had walked to them as well.

“Children? I am afraid that Rûsa is a little anti-social because he is sadly very unused to play with other children like you. Would you perhaps like to show him how to play?” asked Maedhros in a sweet voice. Rûsa flinched when he realized what his mother planned.

“A-ammë? That is not really needed…ah!”

Before he was able to finish his protest, Rûsa had been dragged along by the other Elflings.

“That was a little mean by you, sister.” said Maglor in as they watched how Rûsa struggled to try getting out of the ball game and the other Elflings did not allow him escape as per Maedhros' request.

“He needs to learn how to be social by the standards here in Aman. And where is the best start of being social if not with other children? I know that Rûsa is an adult mentally, but his current body is that of a very young Elfling and people will start wondering if he does not behave like a child. I do not want people to start rumours that I am raising my son to be the next Curufinwë Fëanáro in the terms of how Atar’s personality was back in the Years of the Trees.” replied Maedhros in a matter-of-fact voice. That logic was extremely hard to disagree with, especially as Maglor remembered far too well what Fëanor’s original proud and arrogant behaviour had ended up causing in the long run.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In another part of Aman, Maeglin was currently enjoying some mountain-climbing with some more distant cousins on Eöl’s side of the family. The whole Metal clan had set up their permanent main camp here at the mountain, so it was only natural for the youngsters to look for raw metal ore that they could find and forge into something useful.

“Ha! I found some iron ore here! Watch out down there! I do not want to hit someone by mistake.”

She tossed the iron ore into one of several large wicker baskets where today’s findings were to be collected.

“Ok, this is enough for today, everyone! Come down from where you are up there.”

Obeying the orders, the seekers started to climb down. Maeglin had became pretty skilled in this, as she had visited them a lot ever since her rebirth back in the Second Age. Climbing down, she landed beside her father.

“Any news from Amil about things in Tirion?”

Maeglin was careful to always use Sindarin or the Avarin language around Eöl, as she did not want to bring back memories of how things had lead to her parents' death back in the First Age.

“Apart from that your great-uncle Fëanor and his family still shows no signs of arriving in Tirion? Nope. I know that their mere presence by being Reborn is causing unrest among many people, but since they are keeping low…”

Eöl started to carry one of the wicker baskets as he spoke, Maeglin picking up another one to follow him.

“Yes, sometimes it is better to wait for a little longer to openly show themselves again. Still, they do not live in total isolation, it is a little hard to do that when you are the rulers of Formenos that is a real city nowadays.”

It was pretty much an open secret in every part of Aman that all the members in the House of Fëanor were living in Formenos, but no one was able to guess what they were doing apart from being the rulers of the city. Maeglin had heard a lot of wild mass guessing on what the House of Fëanor actually were doing or planning, most of which theories were purely ludicrous and impossible.  

“As it has not been any Fourth Kinslaying happening now when they have been around for the past seven years, I think it will be calm for good while more.”

Putting the wicker basket with the iron ore down on the ground, Eöl started to light a fire in his forge. Maeglin was already putting on her own leather apron and put up her long hair in a bun on her head to protect it.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It was early in the afternoon when Maedhros and Maglor returned home. Rûsa was being carried by his uncle since Maedhros was busy carrying what they had bought on the market, his small body worn out by the ball game he had been dragged into.

“How are you feeling, Rûsa? You sound a little tired.”

Rûsa rubbed his eyes under the veil, fighting against the sleep that tried to take over him.

“You would…also be tired…after running around like that…”

In fact it was only good that Rûsa were tired, that would make it easier to make him take a afternoon nap when they came home. In order to have his new body grow properly, Rûsa needed lots of sleep along with nutritious food, but it was very hard to make him take naps when his adult mind were set on finding some chore to do in order to show himself useful.

“You did great before in playing with the other children, even if you do not know the rules in the ball game they were playing. You did well.” answered Maedhros gently as she looked on her son. Hearing her say that he had done well, seemed to work like a spell for Rûsa. Resting his head against Maglor’s shoulder, it did not take many minutes for him to fall asleep.

“By the way, sister…what do you think it can be in that packet that arrived to you from Tirion?”

Maglor nodded towards a small wooden box Maedhros held in her arms.

“Most likely a bribe or something else from grandfather Finwë to persuade our father to come to the royal court, since he always remembered how all seven of us liked that candies made of honey and ginger.” suggested Maedhros as she focused her eyes forwards.

“Better not let Rûsa taste them without a adult around then. I still do not really understand how he ended up on top of the cabinet where we keep the family's formal robes after grabbing hold on five of the honey muffins the twins made last week…”

Both the siblings shuddered at the memory of finding Rûsa on top of the cabinet after that he somehow had wrecked the whole living room despite his small size.


	4. A new student

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The House of Fëanor gets a visit by a old friend, and Rûsa starts learning things that he did not know in Angband

Year 17 of the Fourth Age, Formenos.

“Rûsa? What did you go? You better not have climbed up somewhere impossible again, I would rather not have to take you to the Healers once more for breaking an arm or a leg from falling from a high place!” called Celebrimbor as he looked around after his younger cousin. Over the past five years, people here in Formenos had learned that it was a very bad idea to give Rûsa anything with a high amount of sugar, as those sugar-rushes often caused him to either run around the whole city or climbing up in the highest places in the city. And since Formenos was not exactly a small city along with having several watch towers, that said a lot about Rûsa’s energy and skills in only using his hands and feet. Thanks to all of those stunts, Rûsa had gotten a new nickname, “ _Little squirrel_ ”, from his twin uncles despite his protests about that.

“Cousin, look what I found!” 

Celebrimbor turned around at hearing Rûsa’s voice behind him. The reborn son of Maedhros, now having the body of a Elfling on 6 years old, held a small mole in his arms. His black eyes behind the grey eye veil were worried.

“What have you found there?”

“I tripped over a small snare earlier which had captured this poor fellow, he is injured. Do you think we can ask uncle Tyelko to take a look on him?”

Celebrimbor held back a sigh, mentally wondering exactly what it was that drew Rûsa to keep moles as pets. The first time it had happened, Rûsa had not really been able to answer apart from mentioning that the moles reminded him about someone in the past. Since they did not want to pressure him about things that could awaken bad memories from his past life, they never asked.

“Yes, just be careful so you don’t drop that poor animal.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back at Fëanor’s and Nerdanel’s house, Maedhros was busy carrying out a filled teapot into the garden where her parents were talking with a guest.

“We should have guessed that grandfather would send _him_ …after all, of all the Elves here in Aman, he is likely one of a few to really know our family even after all those years…”

As Maedhros put down the teapot beside her mother, Fëanor said in a rather annoyed voice:

“Really now, my Atar should know since a long time ago that when I tell him to wait for something, I won’t come before that chosen time!”

“In case you have forgotten, prince of fire, it is already 12 years since yourself and six of your children returned to life. During these years, no one of your family has shown yourself in Tirion at all, and there is only rumours coming from Formenos alongside your annual letters that you send once in a while. The High King is starting to be worried that something might be…wrong?”

The guest interrupted himself in surprise at the sight of Fëanor’s two grandsons arriving and Rûsa quickly lifted his veil so he could see where his mother were. Celebrimbor was expected to be known among people outside Formenos since he officially was Fëanor’s only known grandchild, but the sight of Rûsa…

“Please do not tell me that the real reason to your refusal to show up in Tirion is that you would rather not reveal that another one of your seven brats actually has gone and gotten a kid.” said the loremaster Rumil in a dull, almost bored voice as if he had expected something like this for a long time. The comment caused Fëanor to spit out his tea in shock, while Maedhros froze on the spot in her movements.

“H-how could you see…?” started Nerdanel, sensing that she might need to protect Maedhros from the coming questions.

“Simple, that Elfling can’t be a second-born to prince Atarinkë as he neither resembles him or lady Astarë, otherwise he would look a little more like prince Telpërinquar in sibling similarity. Nor can he be a child to prince Makalaurë and lady Rainiel, otherwise he would be like them in appearance. There is nothing of prince Tyelkormo or prince Carnistir in his facial features, and there is no mention of them getting married over the past 12 years. That dark red hair could possibly be a hint to one of the twins being the father, but there is no resemblance to neither twin as well. And since it was requested after the twins' birth that you two would stop having children for the sake of your wife’s health, that leaves only one of your children left, my prince…namely, _princess Maitimo_. She is the only one to having inherited that face shape from your own mother, and even the chubbiness of early childhood can’t really hide that special heart-shaped face. Am I wrong?”

Mentally, Maedhros almost cursed Rumil’s sharp eyes for minor details that he had picked up during his many years as teacher for the royal family. There was a reason to why he once had been able to tell everyone of the cousins apart even from a young age.   

“Ammë, is uncle Tyelko around? I found a injured mole earlier and would like him to take a look at it,” requested Rûsa as he showed the mole to her. Said silver-blonde son of Fëanor looked out of a window on the second floor, as if he had heard that he was requested.

“Did someone call my name?”

“Rûsa, go up to your second-born uncle so he can look on the mole. After that, I want you to get your new drawing book and make a drawing of what you have seen so far today.” Maedhros told her son with a head nod against the window where they would see Celegorm. Rûsa were quick to obey his mother.

 

Once Rûsa had left, did Rumil put down his teacup on the stone table.

“How old is the child?”

“Six years in terms of age after his Rebirth in the body of a one-year-old Elfling, 595 years if you add the age he was at his death,” informed Maedhros bluntly, knowing that it was nearly impossible to keep such secrets from Rumil for very long and that Rumil would be able to guess where Rûsa must have been begotten back in the First Age, as a Elven pregnancy took a year from the conception to the birth. At first, Rumil did not say anything, deep in thought as he was, before he finally spoke:

“I take it that your son is illiterate, princess, and thus is in desperate need of learning the skills he needs to know as a member of the royal family. You fear for how people will view him if it becomes known that he does not know to neither read or write.”

“Those skills were not taught in Angband to the slaves…” Maedhros thought in sadness, remembering the hints of his past life that Rûsa had shown under the past five years. Rumil rose from his chair.

“I have been looking for a good reason to leave the dusty archives of Tirion for a longer time, and since the High King also requested me to see how things were with your family…well, most of my past students over the last Three Ages have been pretty boring in comparison to teaching the High King’s sons and grandchildren. Perhaps a new student of the House of Fëanor can spice up the life for this old Elf again.”

“When can you start teaching Rûsa, master Rumil?” asked Maedhros with a smile while trying to hide a shudder at the memories of the other teachers she and her siblings had been having beyond Rumil. She could only hope that they would not get their claws into Rûsa if they ever went to Tirion, for he was very unlikely to understand what they would be trying to teach him.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

That evening at dinner, Maedhros told Rûsa that he would start having lessons with Rumil the next day. As Rûsa had been told a little about how things were for his family back in the Years of the Trees, he had become curious on actually meeting someone who once had known his mother and uncles as children.

“Did you warn him that I can only remember stories and tales from when someone read it aloud for me? I can understand a story from the images, but when it comes to the words…”

Celegorm patterned his nephew’s hair in a little rough way.

“If it is someone here in Aman who can teach you to read and write, it is master Rumil. Just look at me, I was the wild one of Atar’s kids when we were young and he managed to find a way to make me learn to read and write even if I was not in the classroom.”

“As in giving this blond birdbrain homework in learning the Tengwar on everything he saw and then writing it down at the end of the day,” whispered Caranthir to Rûsa without really lowing his voice. That earned him a kick under the table from Celegorm, and Caranthir returned the favour. Within moments, they had been dragged into a food fight over the dinner table while the rest of the family tried to ignore the insults and flying food.

“We all know that you are smart, Rûsa, just not in the way people might think at first. After all, you have already learnt the picture-writing that the Avari Elves use, right?” smiled Amrod as he ducked for a thrown lemon-piece from Celegorm. Fëanor and Nerdanel, both used to it sometimes becoming food fights between their children, caught all the flying food pieces before someone else were hit by them.  

“Yeah! Remember how surprised Ada Taurion was to learn that it actually had been me who had written the letter to him at the Wood clan’s last visit?” grinned Rûsa before Maedhros gently pushed down his head  for a quick moment so he would not get stray food thrown at him.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As promised, Rumil returned the next day with the basic items needed for his lessons. Since it was such a fine summer day, he and Rûsa went outside for the first lesson.

“Your mother told me that you often watch your family in different chores. Have you watched any of them as they write a letter or so?”    

Afraid to make his new teacher angry or displeased, Rûsa were quick to nod in answer. Picking up a training chalk and slate, he tried to show Rumil that he was fairly good on the picture-writing of the Avari clan despite that he had not been able to write it for very long. It seemed like Rumil knew of the Avari script, for he nodded when Rûsa made out the symbols for the six different clans and the symbol-names of the six chieftains.

“Good, this is a good start. This writing might be very different from what we other Elves use, but I am sure that it very useful to know.”

It did not take long before poor Rûsa started to struggle with the chalk and slate as he tried to form the letters. Cold sweat broke out on his brow, he chewed on his lips in a desperate attempt to hide his growing concern. In his mind, Sauron’s mocking voice whispered with toxic, honeyed tone:

“ _Do you really think that he is impressed, Rûsa? Why would he like to teach a dumb, useless slave as yourself? Don’t be a fool, you will never master the tengwar…_ ”

**_Crack!_ **

Rûsa had pressed so hard on the chalk that he broke it in two pieces, the sudden sound returning him back to the present and Sauron’s voice faded away. Without saying a word, Rumil handed him a new piece of chalk and gently told him tocontinue practicing. The old loremaster had noticed how tense his new pupil suddenly had become, how he struggled to get control of his trembling left hand to write while he fought against something in his mind.

“I better ask princess Maitimo about that. For a moment, it almost seemed like he wanted to kill something…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Just like with Fëanor’s family in the beginning after Rûsa’s rebirth, over the following weeks Rumil soon got his patience deeply tested in a way that he really had not counted on. There were no doubt that Rûsa were smart, perhaps even would grow to have a mastermind of his own one day in the future, but his life-long illiteracy really caused a lot of unseen trouble for Rûsa. He struggled so hard with the letters, tried to make them look even and neat like how they looked in books. Because of that he was used to a more practical training by working with his hands and whole body instead of using his mind, Rûsa often lost patience with himself when he had to sit still for many hours and many times a lesson would suddenly come to a stop when he, in understandable frustration, ended up knocking his writing attempts to the floor or to the ground before storming out from the classroom in angry tears over his own failure.

“He is in a bad mood because he often stays up all night to train on his writing and do not give himself enough sleep,” explained Maedhros one afternoon when Rûsa once more had stormed out from the classroom. Rumil was kneeling on the floor and picking up the slates Rûsa had been practicing on. He studied the tengwar Rûsa had written down before he had lost his patience earlier, and then said:

“Say, Maitimo…slaves in Angband were _punished_ if they failed on something, right? That is why Rûsa is so afraid of failure. He is too hard on himself. He is afraid to displease me, and that affects him badly when he is training on his writing.”

Getting a quick flashback of how Rûsa’s adult spiritual body had looked with all the scars and old wounds during the first years after that they had entered the Halls of Mandos along with her own torture in Angband, Maedhros could only nod with a pale face.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

While Maedhros and Rumil spoke, Rûsa had been hiding upstairs in his own chamber. As five of his uncles had moved out of the house before his and Celebrimbor’s rebirth, he had gotten one of the cleaned out chambers to have as his own. Since Rûsa still did not have that many belongings even after being alive for 5 years, the chamber still looked a little bare at times. Like now, when he was laying on his bed and thinking back on what had happened in the classroom earlier.

“Master Rumil is going to be disappointed with me….hm? What is it that I have in my mind? A song? Not one of uncle Káno’s songs, they sounds different…”

Sitting up in the bed, Rûsa’s black eyes seemed to shine different than normally as the song in his mind remained where it was. As if in a trance, he started to go back down the stairs back to the classroom.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Inside the classroom, Fëanor had overheard the conversation between Maedhros and Rumil as he was carrying some clean and dry laundry back from the washing room.

“I believe that Rûsa knows now that you would never punish him in a such way, but he can still be so easily frightened at times by the most normal things for us here in Aman…oh, Rûsa, you are back?” wondered Fëanor when his youngest grandson came back into the classroom. But strangely enough, Rûsa did not greet him back. Instead, he sat down on the chair and began to write without saying a word. Maedhros groaned while she made a worried face at seeing the look in her son’s eyes.

“I really **_hate_** it when someone in the family is so focused on their work like this.” she muttered out loudly, indirectly causing her father to flinch when he realized that she was talking about how he in the past could be absolutely devoured by his work, then lost interest and dropped the project without a second thought. Sensing that it would be wiser to leave Rûsa alone for the time being, Rumil pushed both Maedhros and Fëanor along out of the classroom. 

 

After that they had been waiting for a while, Caranthir and Nerdanel dared to peep inside the classroom. They saw Rûsa had fallen asleep on the small writing desk, his head on the box of drawing crayons he had gotten as a begetting-day gift earlier that year.

“I guess that sleep finally caught up with him, seeing that he has stayed up all night during the last few days to train himself in writing the tengwar right.” said Nerdanel as she carefully moved away the crayon box so she could pick up her youngest grandson from the desk.

“Perhaps he tried to make a drawing to what he attempted to write down earlier. Look, I believe this might even be his best tengwar so far,” suggested Caranthir. Taking a close look on the drawing, the third son of Fëanor then noticed something odd about what the drawing represented:

A black-haired Elven woman dressed in a blue grown, dancing in front of a black throne where three white gems could be seen where the head would be.

“That explains the odd glare Rûsa gave Tyelko and Curvo when we told him the Lay of Leithian and Nelyo revealed that those two messed up for Beren and Luthien no less than three times during the Quest for the Silmaril. If he caught a glimpse of Luthien in Angband when she danced for Morgoth, and with his age at that time it happened, about 471 years…perhaps he got an unknown crush on her?” summarized a puzzled Caranthir after a quick look on the words Rûsa had written down and realized that it must be what he remembered of Luthien’s song in Angband before her magical song had put him to sleep along with the rest of Morgoth’s servants.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Coincidence or not, a mental wall seemed to have broken down in Rûsa’s mind after writing down what he remembered of Luthien’s song. Now the tengwar seemed to flow from his hands as he wrote, he finally learned to master the runes and he no longer lost his patience as often as before.

“Very good, Rûsa, I knew that you would not be a lost cause despite your earlier illiteracy. Now, may I ask what happened to make you feel better in this?” complimented Rumil one afternoon when they nearly were finished for the day and he saw how neat the tengwar runes looked on his student’s writing. Rûsa frowned a little while he looked for a sensible answer.

“Somehow the memory of a special song came back to me, and it felt like it tore away the chains that bound me before. I only wish that I could have been able to hear more of that song or actually meet that lady in person…”

  
If Rumil was confused by the answer, so did he not show it. Instead, he told Rûsa that his new homework to the next day would be to make a family tree of the Noldorin royal family so all the family members were in the right part of the family tree.


	5. Journey to Tirion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The House of Fëanor travels to Tirion

Year 22 of the Fourth Age, on one of the great grass steppes about one hour’s journey from Tirion.

“Ada! Ada, ada, ada, ada!”

Knowing already what it was going to happen, Taurion held out his arm and let Rûsa swinging from his arm under cheerful laugher before his older half-siblings caught up and Rûsa had to hurry away in order to not get caught in the great game of tag they were playing all over the camp.

“Take it easy with Rûsa, remember that he is much late-reborn than you others,” called Taurion with a smile after his older baseborn sons and daughters as they did spread out around the tents.

“It is really a huge difference, to see how your youngest boy acts nowadays and how much more anti-social he was back in his first life. Then again, he did have a very good reason back then for not wanting to be close to anyone.” said Atara as she came closer to her husband, carrying a basket with freshly baked bread. True to her words promised back in the Halls of Mandos before their Rebirth, she had never tried to make her husband’s 15 baseborn children outcasts among the Wood clan because of how they had been born and Atara even had came to see them as her own children over time.

“Well, I agree on that Rûsa is much more open in his personality now than in the start, but I am still a little worried about how things will go for him. Being lady Maedhros' son and her belonging to the Noldorin royal family, they can’t keep him hidden forever…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Eleven years had passed since that spring morning when Celebrimbor and Rûsa had been reborn. Despite that Rûsa was “only” 12 years old in his new body, his family had chosen to use his real age in order so show that they respected the fact that he had been a adult for a very long time at the time of his death back at the end of the War of Wrath. Which meant that this summer, they were actually celebrating his 600th begetting-day.

“Sorry that it is smithing toys meant for an adult, but I wanted to give you a set to have ready while you grow into a adult in this new body of yours,” explained Fëanor when Rûsa had taken a look at what his maternal grandfather had given him. But Rûsa was happy; items like these would be useful later in life when he was more grown up, and he was far more happy over actually be given something rather than it being working toys for adults.

“Who’s that?” asked Rûsa as a horn blew in the air, and he saw someone he had not seen in the Wood clan before arriving on a giant steed. His family members turned around when it became clear who it must be.

“Lord Oromë!”

The Lord of Forests bent his head in greeting: the Vala had happened to see the Wood clan’s camp while he was out and hunting.

“Hello there. Now that’s a family I have not seen for a good while over the few past years. Oh, I guess that young Elfling is your boy, Nelyo?”

“Yes…ah, Rûsa? Why are you acting like that?”

At seeing Oromë, Rûsa had gotten a very dark look on his face. A really murderous one, in fact. While he knew now that Morgoth had lied a lot about his enemies, some of Rûsa’s past distrust against the Valar still were around in his mind.

“This power…it reminds me about _Him_ …!!”

Realizing that he looked like that because he was in front of a Vala and that he must have been reminded about Morgoth, Celegorm made a clumsy attempt to break the tense air and broke Rûsa’s focus by lifting him up in the tunic before handing him over to Huan.

“Hey, let go of me, uncle!”

“Go and play a little with Huan, Rûsa.”

The large hunting dog barked in answer before giving Rûsa a gentle shove in the back with his big head towards a open spot between the tents.

“Sorry about that, lord Oromë, my son does not trust people very easily and I think he might have been reminded about the Enemy in some way…”

Oromë held up a hand to make Maedhros stop talking.

“I am not offended. There have been similar cases before with former slaves from Angband. They do not trust the Valar because they hold bad memories of the Dark One.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As Rûsa tried to focus his anger on something else, he ended up kicking away a small stone with his boot. Then he fell back against Huan’s steady side, where the dog was laying in the grass.  

“I know that the other Valar are not like the Master of Angband, but I still don’t like their presence around my family…ah!”     

Huan responded by pushing him down on his side and starting to lick Rûsa with his long tongue, washing his small face rather well with dog-drool.

“Yuk!” groaned Rûsa in disgust as he wiped off his face on his sleeve, promising revenge on Huan later as his eye veil now needed to be washed. Huan sat up with an doggy grin on his face when Rûsa glared at him. Even if Huan never had spoken, he always found Maedhros' son to be a rather “feral pup” as he called Rûsa in private and thus needed someone to keep a eye on him so he did not get lost from the Fëanorian “pack”. The hunting dog also smelt the scent of a adult Elf from Rûsa even if his body was that of a young Elfling, which was another good reason to watch him according to Huan.

“Look at what you did now, Huan, ammë is going to be sad about…eh? W-where all those puppies come from?”

A notable number of unknown puppies had suddenly shown up around the odd pair of Elfling and adult dog, but Rûsa saw they were bigger in size than the puppies he had seen earlier in the camp. Had Oromë brought them along? Celegorm often talked about the hunting dogs that would be seen with the Lord of the Hunt, so it would make sense if they had came along with him. Before Rûsa could call for a little help he was tackled to the ground by the litter of pups, all intent on licking him to death.  

“ _MOOOOOM!!!_ ”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Tirion, all the Elves were busy in preparing the city for the annual Midsummer Festival. Even the royal family was doing something for the celebration.

“I guess that the threat of all of us coming to Formenos, dragging half the court along, was not something great-uncle Feanor wanted to become real?” suggested Finduilas as she, Idril, Celebrian and Maeglin were making rosettes in three-coloured ribbons to place on the main table where the whole royal family would sit the next evening.

“Most likely. Formenos might be a big city, but suddenly getting all of the family on a visit is not something many would want…”

“But I wonder why they have not been visiting us at all under those almost 18 years that has passed since their rebirths. Celebrian, lady Maedhros lived in yours and lord Elrond’s household under the first two months of her rebirth, right?” asked Maeglin as she finished one rosette and started on a new one. Celebrian nodded, remembering how Elrond had pleaded with Maedhros to stay for a little longer until that she was stronger, how Maedhros had requested to be taken to Formenos before it became known that she was in his house.

“Yes, she did that. But I have no doubt that she feared people’s reaction at hearing that she was there under Elrond’s care, she became worried the moment she was out of Elrond’s sight and wanted to return to her family as quickly as she possibly could.”

Having seen Maedhros' worryings up close, Celebrian could understand why she had not wanted to get Elrond involved with her again. The way in which she and Maglor had gotten their unexpected foster-sons were, after all, an event that never should have happened in the first place.  

“Excuse me, ladies…where should I place those chairs?”

“Ah, Glorfindel! Be careful with your left foot or you will end up tripping on that stray rosette,” warned Idril when she looked up and saw where he was about to go.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in the Wood clan camp, Rûsa’s call to Maedhros had caused the Fëanorian family to see why he had called.

“Looks like the puppies found you likeable, Rûsa. However, I agree on that this can almost count as a animal attack, given the way you look like at the moment,” said Celebrimbor while he lifted up his younger cousin in the air so he got away from the many puppies. Rûsa’s angry scowl really matched Caranthir’s face when the latter was in an angry mood, so it was pretty easily to guess what he felt about all of this. Even if it looked funny, no one dared to laugh as that would only hurt Rûsa’s feelings. 

“Come here. Let's wash this off you, honey,” suggested Maedhros and took her son from Celebrimbor so she could take him somewhere to wash off his face. Celegorm was gently scolding Huan for not getting Rûsa away from the litter of puppies, while Oromë whistled on the puppies for return to him.

“If Rûsa does not feel too insulted, perhaps he would like one of the puppies as a gift? Having a pet might help him if there is something that troubles him.” offered Oromë once Rûsa was far enough to not hear. Fëanor and his family looked at each other. They knew that Rûsa bonded far more easier with animals than with people, but since Maedhros was Rûsa’s parent, she had the final word alongside her son about things.

“Well…seeing that he tends to keep moles as pets from time to time, he is somewhat used to have a pet but a puppy born from one of your dogs is totally different than a small mole, lord Oromë…”

Most of Fëanor’s family remembered the first chaos-filled time after that the young Celegorm had gotten Huan. Sure, they had only been a Elfling and a puppy back then, but it had taken some time for Huan to start obeying the rules they had set up for him. Once the first weeks had passed, things had been easier outside that Huan eventually had grown into a very big dog.

“Well, we can talk about this again later this summer when I pass by Formenos. Sometimes such a decision may need some time before you choose what to do.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X  

Soon it was time for them to ride the last road to Tirion. Even if Fëanor’s family knew the way from their former lives, they all felt a common worry about what would happen when people saw the banner with Fëanor’s eight-rayed silver star.

“I am not sure if I want people to catch a sight of Rûsa when we ride into Tirion…Formenos is a reasonable small city where he knows most of the Elves who live there, but Tirion is the Noldorin capital…” Maedhros said, worried, with obvious fear on her face, while she twisted her hands.

“Good point…”

In fact, that was pretty precisely why they had delayed their return to Tirion for the past 11 years. Now in his child-body of a 12-year-old Elfling, Rûsa’s resemblance to his mother Maedhros was very clear even with some of Taurion in him and there was less of a risk that he would be mistaken for an eight child born between Fëanor and Nerdanel.

“If you feel worried about Rûsa being seen when you do not feel ready, why not use this?” asked Taurion smiling as he showed up behind a tent, carrying a long wicker basket in his arms.

“What do you mean, Taurion?”

“Well, Rûsa’s new body is currently in that age when our children here in the Wood clan are mostly allowed to start travelling in our carts, but sometimes the parents still want to carry their Elfling in a wicker basket on their backs while riding as that is a item of comfort for the child.”

Maglor caught on what Taurion tried to show:

With a 12-year-old Elfling being roughly the same size as a human child on 4 years, it was still fairly easily to carry a Elfling that way until that they had grown too big for the baskets.

“Good idea, perhaps we can see if he fits into it?”

As Rûsa had been given a taste of being carried like this in the past every time the House of Fëanor had been visiting the Wood clan, he did not need much explanation about the basket when Maedhros mentioned her worry about him being seen in Tirion.

“Look, ammë! There is even a woven cover here,” said Rûsa and dragged the lid over him so he was not seen, apart from a small opening where his eyes could watch things on the outside. Checking so he sat comfortably inside the basket, Maedhros then pulled the basket on her back and sat up on her horse. 

“Behave yourself now when you will be meeting the rest of your mother’s large family, Arion, and I might buy you some sweets at the Midsummer festival tomorrow.” laughed Taurion in a merry tone, using Rûsa’s Sindarin father-name that he had been given this summer as a special gift for his 600th begetting-day.   

“ _Don’t spoil the boy too much, Taurion! I know that you really enjoy children, but yourself and his older half-siblings really dote on him every time he is here,_ ” called Atara from somewhere between the tents, causing Taurion to smile nervously. However, it also caused Feanor and his family members to laugh in a friendly manner, knowing very well how true that was. Rûsa were, without doubt, the baby of Taurion’s baseborn children, the youngest one who they always tried to keep an extra eye on even if Rûsa were a adult mentally.

“Let's go. The sooner we finally arrive to Tirion, the sooner we can get all of this over with,” commanded Fëanor to his family while he took the lead. Riding after him in the order of their birth, the House of Fëanor started to ride out from the camp of the Wood clan. Two of Taurion’s most trusted men rode in the rear, each one bearing a spear with the banner Fëanor’s eight-rayed silver star so it would be no doubt which family it was.          

“See you tomorrow outside the walls of Tirion, everyone! We look forward to see the dancing plays the six clans will perform for the people of Tirion!” called Rûsa in goodbye to some of his half-sisters with a wave on his small arms from where he was standing up in the basket on Maedhros' back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: for those who wants to take a look, Rûsa’s father-name in Sindarin can be found on the website realelvish dot net


	6. Meeting the royal family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Noldorin royal family gets a surprise

Riding up along the last hill, Fëanor stopped for a few moments.

“Nelyo, come closer over here beside me so Rûsa can get his first look on Tirion. Rûsa, this is the city of Tirion, the birthplace and childhood home of our family.”

Obeying her father’s words, Maedhros turned her horse a bit so her son could see Tirion in all of its glory from where he saw in the wicker basket on her back.

“This is Tirion? Strange, it looks oddly familiar somehow…?!”

Suddenly, without any warning, Rûsa got a look of pure horror on his face when he realized why Tirion seemed so familiar. He began to shake in his whole little body and whimpered something indistinct as he quickly dived back into the basket and pulled the lid over him. Rûsa’s strange behaviour worried his family, since it reminded them about how terrified Rûsa could be for being punished for something back during the first weeks after his and Celebrimbor’s rebirth. 

“Rûsa? What is wrong, sweetheart?” asked Nerdanel carefully while she tried to open the lid, only for Rûsa to grab hold of the leather string to the lid inside the basket and refusing to let her open the lid. Based on how hard he was pulling on the leather string to keep the lid closed, this was something really serious.

“T-the h…the Hidden City…burning…the Balrogs…the screams as we attacked…”

Only a fool would not catch the hint and realize that it must be Gondolin, the hidden city that Turgon had built in likeness to his home-city Tirion because of how much he had missed it.

“ _Thanks a lot for building Gondolin so it seemed to be Tirion itself, cousin Turgon! Now it brings back horrible memories for my son…_ ” Maedhros thought in anger as she heard her son’s whimpers in distress from inside the basket on her back, her glove-clothed hands holding so hard on the reins that it was no mistake in how she felt about this. And judging from the faces of her parents, brothers, nephew and two law-sisters, they shared her feelings in this new hint about Rûsa’s past life as a slave of Angband and War Leader of Morgoth.

“Come on, lets get this over quickly before Rûsa gets a nervous breakdown in there.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The reasonable calm afternoon in Tirion came to a sudden end, when a horn from one of the watchtowers at the main city gate were blown. Since it only happened to reveal the arrival of royal family members, and the House of Fëanor was the only royal House still missing, it could only be them.

“The royal House of Fëanor!”

“Crown prince Fëanor and his House are coming!”

“For real, it is them!?”

Not wanting to waste any time at knowing that Rûsa were close to having a nervous breakdown from the memories of the Fall of Gondolin, Fëanor led his family across the streets towards the house where his family had been living before his exile to Formenos back in the Years of the Trees.

“Nelyo, ride ahead of us others to the house as you have a very good reason to get there first!”

Nodding, Maedhros took the lead as Fëanor let her pass. The faster she arrived to the house and could take out Rûsa from the basket, the better. Rûsa could deal with his claustrophobia depending on the situation, but given his reaction on seeing Tirion from afar and seeing how similar it was to Gondolin…

“I am going to give Turgon a firm slap in the back of the head for that once no one can see it! Really, what was he thinking that then?! All of us ended up with some kind of homesickness over the years as the First Age passed by and there seemed to be no end of the loss of many members in the war against Morgoth, but to create a city so alike Tirion…? Turgon, you might have been given the honor of being called “the Wise”, but still you showed a amazing skill of being blind for other people!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“Let go of me! How many times do I have to tell you two that I WON’T be a breeding slave!?”_

_Rûsa fought to get free from the Dark Lord’s hold of his hair, as he was being dragged into a torture chamber._

_“Be quiet, brat, or I will let Sauron put you in the_ _scold's bridle to silence that mouth of yours,” answered Morgoth coldly and dropped_ _Rûsa on top of Maeglin, who had been chained to the stone floor on her back._

_“Ow!”_

_His body weight, thin as he was thanks to the general poor diet among the slaves, caused a new wave of pain for Maeglin as she was almost_ _unconscious from the torture that had just caused her betrayal of Gondolin. Rûsa tried to get up from her almost immediately, but Morgoth put his foot on Rûsa’s back, pushing him back down on Maeglin and did not allow neither one of them to move away from the position they were in. Pulling on the chain belonging to the collar that he had attached to Rûsa’s neck, Morgoth forced Rûsa to raise his eyes from the ground._

_“Listen up now, Rûsa. You have two choices here; Either you take this newly enslaved She-elf as your concubine and father Elflings on her with you as the father, or you can refuse and watch her be thrown into the breeding cells as yet another female breeding slave where she is rather unlikely to live for more than a few years unless the first childbirth makes things shorts and ends her life after birthing a new Elf slave.”_

_Even if she was nearly unconscious from pain, Maeglin still managed to notice how Rûsa’s hands were shaking in terror at the Dark Lord’s words. The iron mask made a good job of hiding his face, but his black eyes betrayed what he was thinking and a drop of cold sweat fell out from behind the mask, to land on Maeglin’s shoulder._

_“So…which one do you choose, Rûsa? Surely you would not want this still untouched She-elf to end up like her, right?”_

_As much as Maeglin wanted to scream in protest, she found herself unable to make even a faint whimper in fear when Morgoth was this close, even if Rûsa tried to shield her from the Dark Lord as best as he could. Had her maternal grandfather Fingolfin felt terror like this right before he was killed by Morgoth?_

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“Maeglin…Maeglin, wake up. You can’t sleep in the bath like this,” called Aredhel as she carefully touched her daughter’s shoulder. She had heard Maeglin whimper in a frightened way from where she had fallen asleep in the bathtub. The touch made Maeglin nearly jump awake with a frightened glance and she barely managed to hold back the scream she almost let out.

“S-sorry, ammë…but I…I had a nightmare a-about w-when…w-when…”

She could not say it, not to her own mother. The terror of having been so close to the Dark Lord, feeling his dark powers around him…

Suddenly there was an impatient knock at the door, which almost sounded like a fist against the wood.

“Aredhel? Get Maeglin up from the bath before that annoying royal steward passes by for the fifth time and starts nagging about that everyone in the royal family needs to be ready before the House of Fëanor arrives to the palace in the evening!”

Knowing from his voice that Eöl would not want to meet that steward again for a fifth time, Maeglin hurried to get out of the bath water. Even if her father were not annoyed at her, it was best to stop his bad moods in an early stage before things boiled over. After all, the last time it had happened, it had ended with both of her parents being dead.

“You can come in now, ada.” answered Maeglin once she had covered herself with a bathrobe.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in the house where Fëanor and Nerdanel once had raised their seven children, had Maedhros now gotten inside the kitchen. Opening the lid to the wicker basket that she had placed on the dinner table, she saw that Rûsa were still shaking in terror as he held his arms around his knees.

“Rûsa? We have come inside our family’s old house where I grew up. Do you think that you can deal with coming out from the basket, or do you need some more time to calm down first? Maybe that stuffed mole-toy uncle Moryo made for you a few years ago?”

By offering him those options to choose from, Maedhros knew that she soon would get a answer from her son. And true enough, a few minutes of waiting while he were allowed to hug his comfort toy, did help Rûsa to calm down from the memories created at the Fall of Gondolin.

 “Wow…grandmother Nerdanel said that the house were big because of how many children she and Haru Fëanor ended up having, but it is far bigger than I believed! And is that a drawing of uncle Curvo and Haru?!” gasped Rûsa in wonder as he stood up in the wicker basket and looked around in the kitchen from the table. Maedhros chuckled for herself at hearing his comments and questions coming from the kitchen, since she was busy in pouring up water in the large bathtub inside the bathroom in the hall.

“Yes, that is us two. And now, I believe, that it is time for a quick snack and then a proper bath for everyone in the family. We can’t show up dressed anyway at court, especially not after that we have been riding like we have done under the past days,” announced Curufin as he showed up in the kitchen, putting down two travel bags on the floor before freeing Rûsa from the basket. Rûsa made a sour face at seeing some of his other maternal uncles and two aunts-by-marriage packing up all the formal robes for the family.

“I hate how restraining those formal robes are. While they are nice in their own way, I do not like how I am unable to move around freely in them.”

More than one of the six sons of Fëanor chuckled in agreement, remembering how they had said similar things once when they had been in the age that Rûsa looked to be in the eyes of outsiders. 

“Well, if you can deal with dressing in those robes without a fuss later after the bath, I can tell you how the court fashion looked like back in the days before your grandmother and I married each other. Trust me, the high collar on formal robes that was in fashion back then were a nightmare the longer you had to wear the robes…”   

“Really, Haru?”

With Fëanor having caught Rûsa’s attention Nerdanel, her law-daughters and Maedhros took the change to take the first bath together, bringing some light snacks and drinks with them into the bathroom.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

True to his promise, Rûsa did his best to not start complaining about being dressed into the formal robes after the family bath. Being a darker redhead than Maedhros, Nerdanel, Amrod and Amras, Rûsa’s formal robes were a colour of white and light sea-blue along with a simple silver circlet to show that he was a grandchild to Fëanor along with a eye veil to protect his light-sensitive eyes. Being the older one of the two cousins, Celebrimbor wore a more adult version of Rûsa’s attire in deeper blue.

“Where is ammë?”

“Right here, Rûsa. Sorry, it takes a little longer for us ladies to be done…”

Rûsa turned around, and blushed heavy at seeing Maedhros dressed in a very formal gown of emerald-green as base colour and white sleeves. She was also wearing a gold jewelry set with emeralds in the shape of a tiara, necklace and earrings.

“That is not Atar’s work that you are wearing, sister. Are you being _courted_ by someone without telling us?” asked Celegorm, causing the rest of the family to take a closer look on what jewelry Maedhros actually wore.

“What!?” half-hissed Caranthir at hearing what Celegorm had said, while Curufin said:

“Is that true, Nelyo?”

“Who is it, sister?” questioned Amrod on Maedhros'  right side, Amras nodding in agreement from her other side as he tried to take a closer look at the jewelry.

“Huh? What, what? What are you talking about?” wondered a confused Rûsa, having totally missed what it was about his mother’s jewelry that made her brothers act like this all suddenly. 

“Is it one of our surviving followers from the First Age?” Maglor asked a lot more carefully than the rest of their brothers, to which Maedhros quickly shook on her head as answer.  

“It better not be a prank meant to first raise your hope of getting a admirer and then break your heart….” growled Celegorm in barely hidden anger.

“ _What_ is wrong with the jewelry that ammë is wearing?” insisted Rûsa in impatience over not getting an answer on his repeated question as he tried to push himself between the legs of his many uncles.

“ _ENOUGH!!_ Whatever this sudden fuss is about, we don’t have time for it now, the carriages from the royal palace are coming and we can’t afford to be late!” yelled Fëanor over the chaos created between his seven children as he hurried down the stairs, making a stop to it all. Bending down on a knee to come close to Rûsa’s level, Celebrimbor whispered to him:

“My own Atar and the rest of our uncles simply saw that your ammë is not wearing a set of jewelry that Haru has made. Every jewel-smith has a style of their own design, and since everyone in this family knows Haru’s style in making jewelry, they were able to tell right away that the maker of aunt Maedhros' jewelry is someone else.”

Despite Celebrimhor’s honest attempt to explain why Fëanor’s six sons had reacted like that at seeing Maedhros' jewelry, Rûsa’s facial expression told him that he were completely lost when it came to jewelry. In his former slave-mind, jewelry were just some soft metal with petty stones.

“Come on, you two, the carriages are waiting.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Thanks to that Fëanor’s family were rather big, with his seven children and two-law-daughters, they managed to sneak in Rûsa into the palace by hiding him under Maedhros' long skirt and having her brothers walk in a circle around her until that the doors had closed behind them.

“All right. Rûsa, you can come out now.” whispered Maedhros, lifting up her skirt a little so he could crawl out.  

“Good thing that ammë is so tall,” said Rûsa, smiling, as he was picked up in Maedhros' arms so she could carry him for the rest of the way to the throne room where the Noldorin royal family were waiting on the House of Fëanor to arrive. Judging from the half-smiles on his uncles faces, they did agree with him in that.

“Better get this over…”

As far as Rûsa could remember, he had never seen his family acting this nervously before. Not counting the way he had ended up being revealed as the Warg Rider for his mother back in the War of Wrath, this was a dilemma for the whole family. One single slip on the dangerous road they were walking and all their attempts to get forgiveness for their deeds in the First Age would be in vain. Once they were outside the throne room did Maedhros put Rûsa back on the ground beside her as they did not want all the attention to fall on him from the start.   

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the throne room, Finwë had requested his councillors and lords of the court to leave, wishing this first meeting with the House of Fëanor to be only between his closest family members. He had just finished a small talk with Finrod over something, when a herald announced in a high voice:

“Crown prince Curufinwë Fëanáro and the royal House of Fëanor!”

As on a signal, the giant double doors swung inside the room, revealing Fëanor standing in the front of his family. For a few moments, everything was quiet in a tense way, nobody daring to speak or move as they all looked on each others. The House of Fëanor from the doors, and the House of Fingolfin and Finarfin from their different places in the large throne room. Old and several different kind of memories from the Years of the Trees and the First Age flashed by in everyone's memories. Then Finwë himself decided to break the ice between his sons and all the grandchildren, by rising from the throne and hurried over to Fëanor with open arms.He embraced Fëanor as he spoke in a warm voice:

“It is seventeen years late because of your own stubbornness, my firstborn son and grandchildren, but… _welcome back home to Aman_.”

Five words. Five simple words, but they were more welcomed than any loud crowd cheering in that moment. With slightly trembling hands, so unlike his normal behaviour, did Fëanor return the hug to his father.

“Fëanáro.”

It was Fingolfin who had spoken, as he slowly came forwards to his father and older half-brother. Even here in Aman, so many years after his own death in the duel against Morgoth, there were still a faint shadow of his pain over Fëanor’s betrayal at the Grinding Ice in his grey eyes. Offering his hand, Fingolfin spoke the same words that he once had spoken so long ago:

“Half-brother in blood, full brother in heart will I be. Thou shalt lead and I will follow.”

The meaning behind his words were crystal clear. Fingolfin wanted to show that, no matter what had happened between them in the past, he still wanted to love Fëanor as a true brother.

“Ñolofinwë,” were all Fëanor trusted himself to say in this moment. Feeling that refusing could only end up ruining everything for his family again, Fëanor clasped Fingolfin’s forearm in a soldier’s grip, a sign of unmistakeable fealty and respect.

“And may no new grief divide us.”

This time it was Finarfin who had spoken, laying his hand on top of his two older brother’s forearms.

“Arafinwë.”

Now when the ice between his three sons were finally broken, Finwë smiled warmly at his Fëanorian grandchildren.

“Why are you standing over there for, young ones? Come over here and give this old Elf a proper family hug, you seven.”         

“Haru!”

Being the youngest of Fëanor’s children, Amrod and Amras were the first ones to obey, their brothers coming a bit behind the twins. Only Maedhros stayed where she was, feeling Rûsa tug rather hard on her sleeve and the back on her skirt, silently pleading with her to not leave him alone.

“Maitimo? Is something wrong?” asked Indis from her own throne beside Finwë’s throne when the only daughter of Fëanor did not step forwards. Shaking on her head and then nodding to Celebrimbor to placing a hand on Rûsa’s head to take off the eye veil, she answered:

“I am all right, lady Indis. Rather…it is something that I would wish to show all of you. The main reason to why we did not come here to Tirion until now…”

As if saving Maedhros from worrying about how to say it, so did Fingolfin’s youngest son Argon spot Rûsa’s small hand holding her skirt even if Celebrimbor did a good way of hiding him from view.

“Either it is something wrong on my eyes, or is it a child behind you, cousin Nelyo?”  

Maedhros bent down a bit and carefully pushed out Rûsa from his hiding spot behind her long skirt.

“Haru Finwë, this young one is the main reason to why we could not arrive here earlier. This is my son and heir, _Russafinwë Arion._ ”

A shocked silence entered the throne room at those words. And because everyone was focused on Maedhros and Rûsa, nobody noticed how pale Maeglin, who stood in the shadow of a pillar behind her mother, had became at seeing his V-shaped scar on his left cheek and suddenly realizing who he must actually be.                     


	7. Old and new bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa meets the Noldorin royal family

“Your…son, Nelyo?” 

At the question spoken by Indis Rûsa were quick to hide himself behind Maedhros' skirt again.

“If it is the father you are about to ask about, step-mother, I would _NOT_ recommend to ask about how my younger grandson was conceived. It is a rather touchy subject even after all those years,” warned Fëanor as Rûsa dared to peek out from where he was hiding behind his mother. For once, nobody bothered to remind Fëanor about the voice he had used against Indis. If it was so that Maedhros did not want to talk about Rûsa’s father, why nag about it? 

“Well, if this young one was the reason for you not arriving earlier, then I can understand that you did not want people to mistake him for a new Fëanorian...ah.”

Even if Finwë had knelt down on the floor and offered a hand with the palm upwards as a sign of peace, some of Rûsa’s old survivor instincts as a slave took the upper hand. He recoiled and hurried over to one of the large marble pillars, where he hid himself again.

“Sorry, my cousin does that a lot when it is a lot of new people that he does not know…,” excused Celebrimbor. It was in that same moment, as Finrod noticed something else as well.

“Hm? Beloved Amarië, where did Saira go?” he asked to his wife. A sudden cry in surprise were heard from the pillar where Rûsa had hidden and he came out in the throne room again, being chased by a slightly older-looking, golden-haired little Elfling in a white dress right on his heels.

“And naturally you have spawned a kid as well with your own Vanyarin wife, cousin, Based on how old she looks, I take it that she must be the literal result of a celebration of Sauron’s defeat?” commented Curufin at seeing how similar the girl was to Finrod.

“Ha, ha, very funny, Atarinkë,” answered Finrod in sarcastic intonation to his cousin while Rûsa quickly climbed up on top of a protesting Celebrimbor.

“Ow, ow, watch my robes and circlet, Rûsa!” groaned Celebrimbor before Rûsa set himself steady on his shoulders. Then the girl looked sweetly at Finrod:

“He is awfully shy, is he not, Atto?” 

“But perhaps he won’t be so shy if you greet him carefully,” suggested Amarië with a smile to her daughter as Maedhros freed her nephew from her son and put Rûsa back on the floor.

“Behave yourself, honey.”

Just like her mother had suggested, little Saira tried to be friendly.

“Hello, Rûsa.”

Since Rûsa was not very used to girls outside the females of his family, he backed away and hid behind Maedhros again.

“Aren't you going to answer her?” asked Maedhros, at which Rûsa shook on his head.

“You're not afraid are you?” smiled Rainiel, causing her husband’s nephew to shake his head frantically, then gulped nervously while some of his uncles rolled their eyes over his behaviour. 

“Well then go ahead,” commanded Celegorm and gave Rûsa a shove in the back towards Saira, earning himself a rather painful slap on the fingers as thanks from Rûsa. Seeing the small Elfling daring to slap one of the Sons of Fëanor, caused some laughter from the rest of the family.

“Come, lets go out on the balcony and to the dinner that is waiting there.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As Rûsa was an unexpected extra person at the dinner table, Maeglin used the excuse to go and bring an extra plate and cutlery for him to get away for a few minutes. Once she was at a safe distance from being seen or heard, did Maeglin allow herself to sink to the floor with her back against the wall. The shock of seeing Rûsa alive, even in the body of a young elf, had nearly caused her to faint earlier.

“Maeglin? Is something wrong?”

It was Rog, fitting in for a younger relative working in the palace kitchen who had gotten his arm broken earlier that day, who had shown up behind a corner in the corridor.

“Not really. I just got a minor shock over seeing something in the throne room earlier. And could you please show me the right way to the kitchen? We ended up being one plate short on the dinner table outside on the balcony.”

“Ah, they must have miscalculated in the chaos when my poor great-grandnephew slipped on the floor and broke his arm while trying to not drop the wine glasses.”

Maeglin remembered the scene rather well, after all, the poor young Elf had freaked out in fear that he would get fired for getting the wine glasses crushed despite that it clearly had been a accident.

“Has your great-grandnephew calmed down now?”

“Yes, although he still needed a large cup of calming tea to soothe his poor nerves. He really was afraid that it would cost him his job.”

They continued to chat on the way to the kitchen.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Although Rûsa found the view from the balcony nice, he still did not really like being able to see almost all of Tirion. It reminded him about how he had run out on a similar balcony in Gondolin in an attempt to see if he could spot Maeglin in the chaos beyond.

“Please just try and sit down for now,” begged Maedhros as she lifted him upon a chair. Rûsa was not really aware of it, but his body language really told everyone that he was not very comfortable in being around here. It was clear that Rûsa remembered the Fall of Gondolin from the way he cast glares around the balcony every once in a while, as if he half expected the large city to suddenly burst out in flames.

“Is it the first time Rûsa is outside Formenos?” asked Fingon to Maedhros, taking a chance to talk to his cousin and close friend.

“No, he has come along on small family trips in the lands around Formenos, but this is the first time he is this far south. And Tirion is far larger than what he is used to…”

They could not reveal the real reason behind why Rûsa was so uncomfortable, not in front of the family.

“In fact, his behaviour reminds me about my own first reaction when Nanaeth and I left Nan Elmoth,” said Maeglin as she came back with an extra plate and cutlery for Rûsa. Out of habit from her first life in Middle-earth, she slipped into a bit of Sindarin when she spoke. After all, it was the language Maeglin had grown up with during her childhood.

“ _Thank you,_ ” muttered Rûsa, not daring to look up on her, when Maeglin placed the plate in front of him on the table. Hearing him speak the language of the Avari Elves, naturally caught attention. Unexpectedly, it was Eöl who spoke first, in the same language no less:

“ _Are you fathered from someone in the Wood clan? You have_ _that movement of the tongue as that clan uses._ ”

“ _I am the youngest of ada Taurion’s fifteen baseborn children, sir._ ”

“ _I see. The youngest son, I guess, the one who is said to be raised by his Noldorin mother._ ”

Nearly everyone stared in disbelief, since Eöl normally rarely spoke a word and tended to make himself invisible in the background even when it was only the closest family as now.

“Inherited his grandfather’s skills of language, huh?” asked Angrod in a joking tone.

“…pretty much, yes.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Now the servants arrived with the dinner. As a starter, it was a green pea soup with a piece of bread. This was food that Rûsa knew very well back home from Formenos, so there was no fuss about the food. The main course was cooked chicken and salmon in two different dishes and accessories. On the other hand, Rûsa got a serious shock at how strong the salmon had been seasoned with fairly strong spices.

“A-are you all right, Rûsa?” wondered a worried Maedhros when her son hid under the table, his gagging sounds being heard by everyone.

“Who in the kitchen staff seasoned the salmon?” complained Gil-galad when he took a own piece of the salmon to check and nearly got a similar reaction at the strong taste in his mouth.

“Clearly not the normal cook, based on the spices.”

“We do not use much spices in Formenos as it is so far north, Rûsa is more familiar with dishes without spices…”

By now, Rûsa had washed out his mouth with a big glass of water to get rid of the strong spice taste, although he still blushed rather strongly in all of his face because of how hot it had been for him. Unsurprising, he had lost his appetite for the rest of the family dinner as a result and did not even want to taste the dessert, which consisted of fresh strawberries and whipped cream.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Finally, it was over and Fëanor’s family could arrive back home to their old house in the carriages.

“Well, that went pretty well for being our family, or what do you say?” asked Maglor when they went inside the house. Agreements could be heard from different parts of the house, where everyone was.

“Well, I will put Rûsa to bed. Hopefully things will go well tomorrow again, seeing that we need to be present at the royal court too…”

Rûsa muttered something in his sleep, where he was laying against Maedhros' shoulder as he had fallen asleep in the carriage on the way home.

“At least he should be cheered up at seeing his father and older half-siblings tomorrow at the festival.”

“Yes. Good night, everyone.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Meanwhile, Maeglin and Rog had met up at an empty balcony in the palace.

“So princess Maedhros' son is the Elf that you was a…a concubine to in Angband? And he was born during her captivity there?” asked Rog as he handed her a glass of ice-water.

“Yes…but Rûsa never touched me in “that” way after the first time, when he was forced to take me against the wishes of us both. The closest we ever came to it afterwards during that month, was to pretend that we had sex whatever he sensed that someone was spying on us. In an odd sense, I guess that I was really lucky for a female slave in Angband, ending up as concubine to a honest male Elf instead of being taken to the breeding cells as lady Maedhros was. Also, Rûsa planned and covered my escape from Angband, so it would not be noticed that I was gone until several days had passed. Still…it is going to be so awkward for us both over the next days. I could see on his body language that he did recognize my voice, so…”

Rog nodded, letting Maeglinspeak at her own pace so that she was not stressed to reveal what had happened during the family dinner. He took a deep sip of his own ice water.

“You two managed to break the ice between you both in the Halls of Mandos, I hope?”

“Somewhat. We came to a agreement that we would try to become friends, at least. Oh, for heaven’s sake, it is going to be so awkward…”

Rog gently patted Maeglin on her head in a friendly way. Between the two of them, words were often not needed. Simple small body language fitted them better than talking.

“In that case, I am sure that you and Rûsa will be able to find a fitting path together, be it as only friends or something else. If he showed himself to have a honourable heart from the beginning of your past…relationship, then surely can’t have changed too much from what you remember him as.”

Maeglin smiled sadly at Rog, grateful for his support and understanding. In many ways, Rog was the father-figure Turgon never had been able to be for her after that she had been orphaned in the First Age. For all of Turgon’s kindness, he had never truly been able to bond with Maeglin and gotten into the dangerous path of seeing her as a younger copy of his little sister, meant to be protected and hidden away from the world outside Gondolin. In contrast, Rog had openly taught Maeglin new skills in the forge and freely accepted what she had to share as well.

“Thanks, Rog.”

“You are welcome, Mole princess.”

It had been Rog who had started with that nickname after seeing her caring for a injured mole, and others had picked it up with time. Maeglin did not really care, it simply was a title among many others she had carried in both of her lives.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Pain. Pain everywhere. It hurts in every single part of his body where he lays on the cold stone floor on his left side, the chains makes it impossible to move because of the weight on his_ _wrists and ankles, it even hurts to just breathe. The sound of a key being turned around in the lock. Light from a torch as the door is opened. The light hurts his eyes, and he quickly closes them to avoid more pain._

_“He has been very quiet the past days, you say?”_

_The figure shakes his head, long golden-red hair flowing around his black-dressed shoulders by the movement._

_“Rûsa, Rûsa, you really are like a spoiled little child at times like this. Stop being so_ _hopelessly stubborn…”_

_Sauron is carrying a bowl with simple porridge in one of his hands. Against his own will, Rûsa raises his head as reaction on the smell of food after days of privation._

_“I do admire your bravery when it comes to being so protective of your escaped concubine and her whereabouts. But is this really doing you any good, Rûsa?" the fallen Maia says, watching him carefully. At the touch of a hand against his mouth, still so horrible sore and painful after having getting seven teeth pulled out without any painkiller, Rûsa flinches away, turning his head and gritting his remaining teeth._

_"The guards can make you eat, if they have to. I'm sure we both rather prefer that they didn't have to, of course," Sauron adds delicately, knowing very well that Rûsa hates_ _to be force-fed._

_“Or would you rather see sweet little Maeglin having terrible guilt-feelings if she ever was to be recaptured and learning that she is the indirect reason to why you are here in this cell right now?”_

_The thought of Maeglin’s possible guilt, finally forces Rûsa to surrender, at least for now, and he lets Sauron get him up in a sitting position against the wall so he could be feed the first food he had in several days._       

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa awoke with a gasp, sitting up in bed. He gasped heavily for breath, trying to calm down his hard-beating heart.

“A nightmare…”

He had not dreamt that nightmare since his healing in the Halls of Mandos. Had it re-awoken because of that he had met Maeglin again? A sudden push in his back made him focus on something else.

“Stop kicking me in your sleep, little cousin, or you soon will kick me rather painfully in a place lower than my stomach…” growled Celebrimbor from where he was sleeping. Because of how many they were in the House of Fëanor those days, some of them had needed to share beds.

“Sorry…”

Celebrimbor turned around to his other side, falling asleep again. Rûsa laid back on his back, but he could not get back to sleep. Instead, he carefully climbed out of bed to go down to the kitchen.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Down in the kitchen he headed towards the blankets where Huan rested, and Rûsa sat down against Huan’s side.

“Maybe if I sit down here for a little while…”

But Huan was not in the right mood for having a small Elfling curled up against him at the moment, not to mention that he knew that Rûsa should be sleeping in a bed at this time of the night, so Huan rose from the blankets and picked up Rûsa in his nightshirt by the collar, easily carrying him back upstairs.

“Hey! Put me down, Huan!” Rûsa hissed in a angry protest, trying to get free without causing too much noise that would wake up everyone. Finally Huan dropped Rûsa into Maedhros' bed where Maedhros, instinctively after six younger siblings, raised a arm and pulled her son close to her under the blanket without waking up from her sleep.

“You are not getting any food from me tomorrow as thanks for this, Huan…” promised Rûsa quietly for himself as Huan left Maedhros' chamber. Soon he fell asleep, being comforted by the body warmth from his mother.        


	8. Start of trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not always that of joy...

The next day, it was the Midsummer Festival. As promised the six Avari clans gave a show thatwas undoubtedly out of the ordinary. Different costume plays, horse performances, music playing, demonstrations of their fighting abilities with wooden weapons, sales of traditional food and snacks…

“Ada Taurion did not joke about that once gathered together like this, the clans could be very many Elves,” mumbled Rûsa as he enjoyed a honey-stick he had gotten from his father.

“Indeed. Still, the clans are all of different size, so some are smaller while the others are larger,” did Celebrimbor agree, having a similar candy in his mouth. The two Fëanorian cousins were walking around outside the walls of Tirion, enjoying the sight of all the events.

“Celebrimbor, over here!”

It was Gil-galad, running over to them after having spotted Celebrimbor while carrying little Saira on his shoulders.

“Ah, did you two manage to get away from the court this early, old friend?”

“A kind old family servant covered up for me and Saira wanted to see what the Avari Elves would show…oh? Are you watching Rûsa as well?” asked Gil-galad in surprise at spotting Rûsa behind Celebrimbor. Getting a quick flashback that Gil-galad would know that he was the Warg Rider in his old life, Rûsa gave the former High King a warning glare from where he stood behind one of Celebrimbor’s legs. Even if Gil-galad did not change his facial expression, he understood the unspoken meaning of the glare, as he and Finarfin actually had spoken about the matter the very same morning because they both knew of Rûsa’s past as the Warg Rider.

“Gil, I want to see that play of princess Luthien and lord Beren because my Atto’s song duel against Sauron should show up soon on the stage!” declared Saira all suddenly, reminding the three second-cousins about her presence as she pulled rather hard on Gil-galad’s hair with one hand while pointing towards the play with her other hand.  

“Yeah, let’s go, cousin Tyelpë!”

Pulling on Celebrimbor’s hand, Rûsa wished to see the play as well.

“Rûsa is crazy when it comes to princess Luthien…ow!”

Rûsa almost jerked Celebrimbor to the ground in order to shut him up for the moment.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“Good thing that everyone managed to escape out from the palace, or it would have been less fun.” said Maedhros as she walked with Fingon and Rilel, Fingon’s Sindarin wife. Despite what many people would think, Maedhros and Rilel was very good friends, having often enjoyed to embarrassing Fingon together back in the First Age whatever they saw each others.      

“Yeah, things can become amazing boring and stiff here if you follow the rules all day, so different from the court I once ruled over…and _those_ people are around as well…”

Judging from how tense Fingon looked, Maedhros could guess which persons he meant.

“Not those painfully pious people in queen Indis' court, right? Those who always complained to me and my brothers that “ _it is NOT proper for the children to the Crown prince to _ _do so, and so_ ” whatever we showed up? I still have one, nowadays surprisingly harmless in comparison to the events that happened later, nightmare where they did embarrass me in front of the entire court solely because I did not wear a dress on me at that point…really, the only reason to why I always has favoured to wear trousers is because it is easier to run after escaping children in them!”

“And the moment they hear that you actually are not married to sweet little Rûsa’s father, you are going to enter a pure hell of nagging and pressure that you must be married if you are a mother. In such people’s mind, the horrors of Angband would be the ultimate dishonour and outrage of their strong faith when it comes to relationships…”

Poor Maedhros went pale at Rilel’s words and looked ready to faint just at the mental image of that. Some of the Vanyar Elves were so pious to the point that they believed such activities ought to be performed only with the purpose of conception and never for joy, and a female’s place was under her husband with her eyes closed and her mind occupied with prayers. The fear of how Rûsa would be treated if it came out that he actually was an illegitimate child, and that fact that he already was met with some distrust because of what she had done back in the First Age during the Kinslayings…

“No…anything but that! I want to marry and give Rûsa younger siblings, I admit it, but I want to do it with someone who is able to stand the fact that I will bring a child with me into the marriage! Someone who won’t judge him because of me being a former kinslayer…someone who can accept my son for who he is, and not wanting to change him…not because of that my social standing will be tainted even more by being a unwed mother now at my rebirth!”

“Nelyo…calm down, you are only stressing up yourself…” pleaded Rilel gently. Being a mother herself, she could understand Maedhros worries a little. Having met those pious Vanyarin Elves at the Noldor royal court herself, Rilel could remember how they had expressed dissatisfaction with the fact that she came from another culture than her husband and not being a “proper Noldor noble lady”.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

 Lucky for him at the moment, Rûsa was completely oblivious to his mother’s worry. Right now, he focused on explaining things for Gil-galad and Saira, as they were not Avari Elves and thus were strangers for many of the customs among the six clans.

“So seeing someone with loose hair when you are not a relative or close friend, is seen as a grave insult?” wondered Saira when Rûsa told her why all the Avari Elves either had their hair braided or put up in a different style, only really small Elflings having their hair loose.

“That is the child-friendly version. In reality, seeing someone over the age of 50 or a adult with loose hair is akin to seeing them _naked_ here among the Avari Elves. Unless it is for a big event like this Midsummer festival, they only have their hair loose for bathing or love-making...” whispered Celebrimbor to Gil-galad, who realized the hidden meaning behind some of the more odd looks he had been given over the past hour and quickly raised his hands to his head to start braiding his dark brown hair.

“Better not risking any misunderstanding then.”

Celebrimbor nodded, revealing that he had braided his own hair as a sign of respect for the Avarin customs earlier that morning. A bugle was being heard in the air. Had Rûsa and Celebrimbor been hunting dogs, their reaction would have been that of hearing the owner saying that it was time to hunt.  

“Ah, it is time for _those_ games! Come on, Tyelpë, we have to find a Sauron-ragdoll somewhere around!” commanded Rûsa, tugging of his cousin’s sleeve to get him along.

“What kind of games?” wondered Saira as Gil-galad picked her up in his arms again.

“A painting game where we get to hit large ragdolls representing Sauron and Morgoth with dried balls made of natural colours that can be found in nature. If you manage to strike seven times, you win a price…oi, oi! Rûsa, slow down or you will end up dragging me to the ground if you tug on me like this!” protested Celebrimbor when Rûsa used a little too much force on him.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

On the other hand, Maeglin was busy in trying to hide from a possible suitor. While most of the young nobles here in Tirion had long learned that it simply was impossible to make Maeglin find interest in any of them, there were still a couple of them who did not seem to catch the hint.

“ _Cover me, please!_ ” she pleaded in a low whisper to the Avari owner of a market stand, knowing him to be a distant relative on Eöl’s side of the family. Nodding, he pushed her under the stand, hiding her from view with the long tablecloth the stand was covered with. It did not take many minutes before she was given a signal that it was clear for her to leave.

“Thanks for the help.”

“Those noble-born greenhorns just can’t leave you alone because you are the only Noldor princess of marriageable age left unwed, huh? No wonder, given that little princess Saira is still just under 80 long years from coming-of-age. Although, I guess that prince Gil-galad also has that kind of trouble?

“Yeah. However, I hold no doubt that Celebrimbor and Rûsa will be drawn into that marriage game at the royal court as well now when the House of Fëanor finally has shown up here. Kinslayers or not, great-uncle Fëanor is still the first-born son of High King Finwë and four of his six sons are still unmarried as well alongside their two nephews. Not to mention that lady Maedhros, as my great-uncle’s firstborn and only daughter, is going to be a target of power-hungry people as well…” answered Maeglin as she smoothed out her robes, having changed out of her dress earlier when she had a chance to do so. Spotting two of Finarfin’s four sons in the crowd, Aegnor and Angrod, Maeglin took the chance to hurry over to them so she could be free from her wannabe suitors for the next coming hours or so.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At one of the places where the painting games were going on, Rûsa had managed to get six hits out of nine painting balls on the Sauron-ragdoll so far.

“Last one, cousin! I know that you have your eyes set on that nice hunting knife, do not think that I failed to spot you earlier!” called Celebrimbor with a laugh to Rûsa as he made himself ready for the last throw.

“That hunting knife is planned as a gift for uncle Tyelko on his Begetting-day in six weeks, not for myself. I know very well that in this body, I am too small to even try hunting yet…”

Focusing on the spot he hoped to hit, Rûsa held his left arm behind his head, aimed and then threw the reddish-brown ball up in the air. While he managed to hit the doll’s face, not the whole ball landed on the rough fabric. Instead, about half of the ball went past the doll as it flew further away to the other side and ended up covering the silver-hair of an very tall, male Elf dressed in fine robes.

“Oh crap…” muttered Gil-galad in worry when the elf turned around and they realized that it was Thingol who had been hit. Celebrimbor went pale in worry for how this had ended up in such a mess. And judging from how poor Rûsa’s facial expression changed from shock to pure fear as he realized what had happened, it was pretty easy to guess that some of his old terrors from being a slave had reawaken again.

“ _MOOOOOOOOM!!_ ”

Nobody who knew the truth about his behaviour, really blamed the terrified Rûsa when he rushed away into the crowd to find the safety that was his mother Maedhros. After all, as a former slave from Angband, he still feared punishment even for something that clearly was an accident. Because of that Rûsa was so small, he easily ducked between people and was quick to vanish into the crowd before someone could stop him.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Later that afternoon, just as the whole family made themselves ready for the feast at the royal court, did Celebrimbor tell why the two cousins had ended up returning home so late.

“Rûsa threw a paint ball at _Thingol_ of all people by mistake!?” gasped Maglor in shock, accidently braiding Caranthir’s hair a little too hard as he had taken his eyes off his brother.

“Ow!” growled Caranthir, smacking away Maglor’s hands so he could finish the braid himself. 

“Who else do we know that is so tall of height without being a Maia or a Vala? We better hope that he did not see Rûsa’s hair colour or there will be trouble since Rûsa is the only one of Taurion’s eight sons who still is in the body of a Elfling and Taurion’s youngest grandsons by five of his nine daughters is either below or over the current age of Rûsa’s body….”

They all heard that Maedhros was starting to get worried about her son again, and knew that it was better to calm her down first.

“Nelyo, we will explain that it was a accident and that Rûsa did not mean to cast the ball like that, so please stop worrying for now, ok?” asked Nerdanel to her daughter.

“Speaking about our youngest family member, where is he? Is Rûsa lost in the house again like earlier this morning?”

“How in the 14 Valar’s names can I get lost when my ammë has been clutching me to her chest the entire time as you adults has been talking to each other?” remarked Rûsa from where Maedhros was holding him in her arms. Realizing their mistake, his uncles apologized for not noticing him. Rûsa himself did not really care because, mainly, he was busy in trying to make Maedhros let go of him so he could dress into his robes as well.

“Now hurry, we have not much time on us before we have to be at the palace.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Because of that Fëanor had returned to his position as Crown prince in all but name by the family reunion taking place the evening before, many people at the royal courtwere curious to see if he still had his famous pride left, or if he had become more humble by his long stay in the Halls of Mandos.

“Look, there they are!”

It went all quiet in the throne room when the members of the House of Fëanor entered. As one could expect, it was Rûsa who received most attention once he was spotted.

“A child…?”

“Did princess Nelyafinwë enter a hidden marriage during those seventeen years since she was reborn?”

“But I do not see a marriage ring on her hand…”

“Look at the child, he looks almost like a exact copy of princess Nelyafinwë in the same age.”  

“Who’s the father? Surely a law-son married to prince Fëanor’s only daughter would show up as well?”

“Can’t you feel it as well? The boy almost seems to have a… _feral_ aura around him…”

Rûsa was very uncomfortable with all the attention he felt in himself, and tried to make himself as small as he could do in his mother’s arms.

“I don’t like how they stare at me…!”

Nodding as a sign that she understood how Rûsa hated to be centre of attention like this, she tried to catch Finrod’s eyes. Giving him a pointing look against her son in her arms, Maedhros used Ósanwë to her cousin:

_Can Saira please take Rûsa out to another chamber for a couple of minutes? He does not like how people are staring at him…_

Finrod got the hint, for he bent down to his daughter’s level and whispered something to her. Hearing the task she was given, Saira nodded. Ignoring the surprised looks from the noble lords and ladies, she hurried over to Maedhros, tugged on her sleeve to have Rûsa come down and then half-dragged him along out from the throne room.

“My High King and Father, I thank you for allowing us to come here this evening,” said Fëanor in a steady voice as he bowed, easily acting as if the scene with the two children behind his back had never happened.

“My son, you know very well that yourself and your family is most welcome to arrive here.”  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It was a clear relief around Rûsa the very moment he and Saira left the throne room.

“I am not fond of having to be around all the adults as well, it gets so boring with having so well-behaved and quiet while the adults talks about dull, boring stuff. It is no fun hearing people asking “who’s made that nice dress your sweet daughter is wearing?” at least five times every time it is a feast here at the court. Nope, I prefer my parents' nice villa with sprawling vistas and terraces among the large garden with all the orange trees.”

“D-does your parents own that villa outside Tirion? I think your Atar pointed it out from the balcony yesterday…”

Mentally, Rûsa cursed his poor social skills according to Noldor standards. While he had came a long way from how he had been in Angband thanks to his family, the Elves in Formenos and the Wood clan, times like this still showed that he remained very bad at talking to people on his own. Especially if the other Elf in question were a very young and innocent Elfling who knew nothing about his past life as a slave to Morgoth.

“I knew there was something about your behaviour that reminded me about someone else. Lady Maeglin, the daughter to atto’s free-spirited cousin Aredhel and her grumpy Avari husband Eöl!”

“I act like her?” Rûsa repeated in astonishment, mentally reminding himself what Maeglin once had told him about her father’s temper during their short month together in Angband.

“Yes, you reacts like lady Maeglin does at times, in a way that only someone with an somewhat Avari upbringing would do. Like how you reacted on coming inside the throne room yesterday, the Avari Elves are partly nomadic so they are not used to be inside really large buildings like the royal palace. They rarely use spices in the food unless it is important guests at their table, and neither lady Maeglin or lord Eöl touched the salmon because they already had smelt that it was far more seasoning on the fish than what they were used to! And the movements on your hands with thecutlery, revealed that you were used to using both cutlery that is commonly used among the Elves that first arrived here in Aman and the chopsticks that the Avari Elves is known for using.”

Rûsa stared at Saira, shocked at how much she had understood about him, and that only from the night before when they had met for the first time.

“You should have been given the Quenya version of “sharp glance” as well, as an extra name from your parents…” was all he finally managed to say after several minutes of silence. Saira only smiled innocently, then pulled him along out to the nearest one of the palace gardens.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Saira showed Rûsa around in the garden, before she suggested that they would give their mothers a bouquet of flowers each.

“One thing to think about when you shall give flowers to someone, is how you feel about that person. One single flower can say more than a thousand words.”   

With her help Rûsa picked white heather, lavender, milk vetch, red roses and clematis for a bouquet to Maedhros.

“I have found flowers for my ammë Amarië as well, so lets go back…eh?”

While they had been busy picking the different flowers, several other Elflings had showed up in the garden as well. For some odd reason, Rûsa lifted his guard immediately, sensing that it was not for 100 % friendly reasons that those Elflings had came here.

“We are not allowed to be out here in the gardens without an adult, princess Saira. Even if you were requested to show princess Nelyafinwë’s son around, there is still no excuse for breaking the rules.”

“I know which places where we are not allowed to be, no reason to throw that right in my face like that. And we were just about to go back, right, Rûsa?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly one of the male Elflings spotted Rûsa’s eye veil.

“Hey! Don’t you know that veils around the head like that is not allowed to be worn unless you are a servant to the Lady Estë?!”

As the other Elfling reached out to take hold of his veil, Rûsa stepped back. Did not those Elflings know that former slaves of Angband needed eye veils to protect their light-sensitive eyes from the sun?

“Don’t touch my veil…!” warned Rûsa in a low growl, grabbing hold of the other Elfling’s wrist to stop him from touching his veil.

“Please…there is no need of starting a fight, the adults will be angry on us otherwise…”

Saira’s honest attempt to stop a possible fight before it even started, came to a very rude end when both Rûsa and herself suddenly were pushed into the small fish pool.

_Splash!!_

“Hey! That was surely a bit too excessive?!” shouted Rûsa after spitting out some water as he sat up and lifted up his wet veil from his face to see better. There was mocking laugher around him as answer.

“The child of a kinslayer belongs in humiliation!”

But there were a weeping sound as well. With a growing worry, Rûsa looked to his left. The sight that greeted him, was not a pleasant one:

Poor Saira not only had gotten her pretty blue dress ruined, the flowers she had picked for Amarië had become bent or broken in the fall as well.

“The flowers…the flowers for ammë…”

Saira could hardly be blamed when she started to cry hard with big tears, but what really crossed Rûsa’s limit of patience was that the other Elflings only laughed at Saira’s clear distress:

“Look, prince Finrod’s daughter is a _crybaby!_ ”

Rubbing away some mud from his face with fury in his black eyes, Rûsa made up his plan.

“Ha, ha…ah!”

One of the laughing girls made a sudden stop in her laughter at the ice-cold, downright murderous glare Rûsa gave her. That was his only warning about what they just had caused. He knew that he was very likely to get into serious trouble for the coming fight he was about to start, but even if he had only met Saira just a day prior, she was kin. And kin were meant to be protected or defended if someone dishonoured them.

“EEEEEYOOUUUUU!!!!”

Jumping out of the pool, Rûsa headbutted one of the boys in the landing before he went after the other bullies. For a moment or two, he was no longer in the peaceful Aman, but rather back in Angband where this would only be another fight to show his dominance as War Leader.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: want to see the meaning of the flowers Rûsa picked for Maedhros? Can be found on victorianbazaar dot com slash meanings


	9. A hidden evil among us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The House of Fëanor gets in danger....

“Cheers.” said Maeglin in a whisper, her glass touching those of the adult Eluréd and Elurín. The odd trio had sneaked out from the ballroom in order to taste a fruit wine Maeglin had brought earlier during the day from the Metal clan. The wine was a little strong in taste, but not impossible to drink.   

“Shall we try to play a little prank on great-grandfather Thingol with this wine…wait, what’s that noise coming from the outside?”

Eluréd bent over the balcony to see if he could spot where the noise came from in the garden below.

“Is it just my imagination, or is that actually sounding like a fist fight?”

Following the older twin’s movement over the balcony, Maeglin saw several movements around the small fish pool.

“What on Arda are those Elflings doing…eh? It is a real fist fight between them!”

Putting down her glass and the wine bottle on the floor, Maeglin wasted no time. While she did not exactly toss herself down from the balcony she still climbed down very fast, mentally causing how troublesome a long dress could be when trying to climb, the silver-haired twins trying to follow as quick as they could in their long robes.

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

It was chaos in the small garden. Despite that his new body was about the same size as a human 4-year-old, Rûsa still had his adult mind and that also meant that he remembered how to fight against several people at once. Not one of the bullying Elflings had been spared from his fighting. In Angband, it had not mattered whatever the other fighter had been a male or female, the important thing was to get out of the fight alive.

“Rûsa! Rûsa, please stop!” cried Saira from the fish pool, shocked over the brutal violence he used. Sure, her father Finrod had warned her that some of the Feanorians' old blood-thirst might still remain somewhere deep in their minds and that it might be trigged up to the surface under the right circumstances, but to actually see Rûsa doing this…  

It was a terrifying calm look in Rûsa’s black eyes as he looked around, which only seemed even more creepy with the blood on his face. The earlier headbutts had caused a bleeding wound on his own forehead as well, the blood running down along his nose.    

“He is a monster!”

“Kinslayer! Kinslayer!”

“ _WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?_ ”

The sound of Maeglin’s voice as she came closer to the pool stopped the fight to start again.

“It is that scary blacksmith princess!”

“Run!”

The other Elflings hurried away. It seemed like hearing Maeglin’s voice awoke Rûsa from the memory trance he had been inside, for he blinked in confusion when Angband vanished from his mind and were replaced by the garden.

“Huh? What happened?”

Having seen his earlier glare and hearing his words, made Maeglin realize that Rûsa had acted out of habit from Angband. After all, he had been used to almost daily fights solely in order to survive one day to another.

“Never mind. Come on, you two need to be fixed up before anyone else comes and sees this…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

_It was about six days after that she had become a concubine to Rûsa. So far, he had stayed true to his promise after that nightmare event in the torture chamber and not touched her in any way unless it was to help her with something as several parts of her bones and hands still was not fully healed from being broken as part of the torture to make her reveal Gondolin._

_“Although I wonder where he went today. He has been gone for a long time…”_

_Suddenly the door were opened from the outside, a torch lit up the chamber as the fire in the forge in the room beside has went out several hours ago. Maeglin shielded her eyes a bit with a bandaged hand, being somewhat surprised by the sudden light._

_“Rûsa…where did you g…?! What happened to you!?”_  

_Rûsa’s whole body was covered in dark blood, straining his iron mask and leather clothes. And it was a really creepy calm look in his black eyes. Putting the torch in a container on the stone wall locking the door, Rûsa slowly turned around to face her._

_“I…am sorry for that I was gone for so long. I had planned to return earlier, but the last fights were drawn out…”_

_“Fights? Drawn out? What do you mean?” asked Maeglin in worry from the bed, trying to look in another direction when Rûsa removed his blood-strained tunic._

_“Where do you think my famed skills in battle come from? From time to time, I have to fight in a battle Arena on the Dark Lord’s orders to not be seen as weak. There are only two ways of leaving that place once you have entered the ring: Victory or death. And if someone loses, they lose all their weapons to the winner. Since you became my concubine a few days ago, you would be an excellent bonus if I was defeated in the Arena.”_

_Realizing the unspoken meaning behind his words, Maeglin froze in terror. Bending down, Rûsa picked up a package that he had been carrying under one arm. Opening it, the package’s content was found to be several sets of black leather._

_“I don’t have much clothes that I can share with you, so I swapped out my defeated opponents' weapons against this on the way back here. Now, please be still, I have to measuring how much the amount of leather is required to be clothing for you.”_

_Using a simple string as a measuring tape, Rûsa figured out the exact amount with a small stick covered in soot, before he took his sharpest knife to start cutting out the leather in the shape he wanted. Revealing a small sewing box hidden under the bed, Rûsa picked out the thickest needle and tread to sew the leather pieces together into clothes for Maeglin._

_“Not much of style, I admit, but leather is the most common thing around here for clothing. Real fabric are very rare in this place.”_

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

Inside a small chamber in the royal palace:

“They bullied you two?! No wonder you might have lost your temper then, Rûsa…” groaned Elrond as he cleaned the wound on Rûsa’s forehead. By now, Saira had stopped crying and was able to give a little more details to what had happened in the garden.

“I know those brats. They are the children to some of the more snobbish nobles here at court. More than one of them has older brothers that have tried to woo me in the past…”

Maeglin was seeking inside an old wardrobe to see if there was someone of either Aredhel’s or Galadriel’s childhood dresses that Saira could borrow, given that her blue dress had been ruined by the push into the fish pool.

“We found some of lord Argon’s old robes in the storage chambers. Maybe one of them will fit Rûsa,” said Eluréd as he and his twin brother showed up in the door. Said red-haired Elfling made a small face of pain when Elrond rubbed some alcohol on the forehead wound so it would not be a infection.

“I know, I know, nobody likes when it stings like that. There, it’s done,” assured Elrond after binding a small bandage around Rûsa’s forehead. Taking her behind a small screen for decency’s sake, Maeglin helped Saira to chance into a white dress that once had been Aredhel’s.

“Rûsa?” asked Elrond when Rûsa did not move from the small table he was sitting on. In fact, he hung low with his head, his dark red hair covering his face from being seen. He held tight on the tabletop with his hands, his shaking body revealing that he was about to start crying and could not keep it down.

“I…I d-did not m-mean to start a fight…e-everything suddenly…b-became blank and…a-ammë is g-going to get in trouble be-because of me….”

Rûsa wept bitterly, unable to stop himself from crying. He knew that both himself and Maedhros was going to be in deep trouble thanks to his actions, all because of that he could not control his old nature as the Warg Rider. Carefully, Elrond picked him up in his lap and held him against himself.

“Now, now, Rûsa. We will try and fix this before it goes out of control…”

“ _LORD ELROND!!!_ ”

Both Rûsa and Saira nearly jumped in fright at the sudden scream. It turned out to be Glorfindel, looking to be in a great hurry:

“You have to come immediately! Lord Fëanor and his children…they…they were tricked into drinking a poisonous wine right now! Lord Fëanor and lady Maedhros are the ones in the worst danger!!”

In that moment, hearing what had happened to his mother and family, everything became blurry for Rûsa. He felt as if he could not breathe, and the last thing he saw, was himself falling into someone’s catching arms as he fainted.

“Take him to another room, and whatever you do, try to keep him from panicking! Events like this might trigger up unpleasant memories and the last thing we need right now is Rûsa having a panic attack in fear for his family’s lives!” 

Handing the unconscious Rûsa to Elurín, Elrond hurried back to the ballroom where the royal family were.

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

In the ballroom, it was a mix of chaos and order. Finwë’s different descendants tried to keep control over the situation, which worked somewhat. Apart from Fëanor and Maedhros, the rest of the Fëanorians were partly conscious where they had suddenly collapsed, but in terrible pain and fighting to not lose consciousness.

“Brother! Older brother Fëanáro!”

In a act of foresight, Galadriel and her husband Celeborn had quickly closed the two doorways out of the ballroom, hoping to trap the culprit inside before he or she managed to escape.  

“Lord Fingolfin, we have brought stretchers!” called a servant, knocking on the door where Galadriel stood guard. Opening the doors, she allowed them to come in alongside Elrond. Kneeling down, Elrond checked on the pulse on both Fëanor and Maedhros. As he suspected and feared on the same time, they were fighting for their lives. 

“Lady Rainiel and Astarë, get charcoal to powder and add it in water, quickly!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

_A few days after his rebirth alongside his older cousin. Hiding under a cabinet, Rûsa did his best to not be seen by his mother and the others. He really did not want to be punished for breaking that plate he had dropped in surprise at hearing the adults entering the kitchen._

_“Rûsa? Sweetie, where are you…ow! At times like this, I wish that I were not so tall in height!” complained Maedhros as she hit her forehead on something._

_“He was not in any of our bedchambers upstairs, and it is not likely that we forgot to child-proof a couple of the doors around the house...”_

_A pair of grey paws showed up in front of the cabinet, Huan had caught Rûsa’s scent but was unable to reach him under there. Whining to catch everyone’s attention, Huan clawed carefully on the cabinet to show that he had found Rûsa. He was rewarded with Rûsa tossing a small game ball of stone on the nose to get him away from the cabinet._

_“Rûsa, what are you doing under there? Wait…your hands…”_

_Rûsa had cut himself on the broken pieces of the plate in a desperate attempt to hide what he had done._

_“Sweetheart…”_

_Carefully, Maedhros reached out for her son as Amrod and Amras lifted away the cabinet for her. By instinct, Rûsa covered his head with his bleeding hands and curled into a ball to try and protect himself from a coming blow. But it never came. Instead, Maedhros gently placed her hand on one of his hands, letting him know that she still was there but would not touch him unless he had calmed down._

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

Rûsa awoke with a start, sitting up in the bed. At first he was a little confused over being in an unfamiliar bedchamber, before he remembered what had happened just before he fainted.

“Ammë!”

He would have thrown himself out of the bed to get out of the chamber and trying to find out what had happened to his family, had not Fingon pushed him back down in the bed.

“Wait, you can’t just rush out to the other chamber where Elrond is doing his best to save your mother and grandfather. Your uncles are fine thanks to his fast actions, but…”

Rûsa interrupted him by moving around rather violently in bed to get free, giving Fingon a taste of what the House of Fëanor had to face whatever Rûsa lost control over himself out of fear.

“Let go of me!! Ammë, ammë!!”

Right now Rûsa’s face was very pale with his black eyes wide as he was shaking in his whole body in unmistakeable terror as he tried to jerk himself free from Fingon, cold sweat on his forehead damping his bangs and he seemed to not be really in touch with reality, not with the way he fought to get out of the bed to get to the door.

“Oh dear…aunt Nerdanel? Celebrimbor! Can someone of you please come over here?! I think Rûsa is close to having a panic attack!”

“ _MOOOOOM!!!!_ ”

As much as Nerdanel did not wish to leave her husband’s and daughter’s side, she knew that her younger grandson needed someone in the closest family right now. The last two days had almost been too much for Rûsa with the flashback of the Fall of Gondolin, the stress of meeting so many new family members on the same time and now the earlier worry that the fist-fight would get both himself and Maedhros in trouble. Gently pushing Fingon aside, she embraced Rûsa to calm him down.

“Rûsa…sssh, there, there, sweet little Rusco…Elrond was the best healer in Middle-earth, he won’t let your mother leave for the Halls of Mandos again…”

The sound of hearing Nerdanel’s special nickname for him, the Quenya word for fox, calmed down Rûsa a little bit along with being held by her. But it was crystal clear for everyone present that he was deeply upset over what had happened to his family members this very evening.

“I-I want ammë…!” wailed Rûsa in his grandmother’s arms, now crying very hard. He did not care if he was seen crying, or if it would have been a sign of him going soft thanks to no longer living in Angband, right now all he wanted was his mother.        

 


	10. Innocents in the game of life and death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa learns who it is that poisoned his family

 It was one of the longest nights that the House of Finwë had to face together since the Darkening of Valinor. While Elrond managed to save Fëanor’s and his children’s lives thanks to the powdered charcoal in water and making them drink it as an antidote against the poison, it still took several hours before he really said that the worst were over.

“This is all my fault…I should never have requested you to arrive…we others should have come to Formenos instead…” said Finwë, extremely worried as he walked around in the healing chamber. In fact, he went back and forth so many times that Elrond threatened to restrain the High King in a chair if he did not sit down immediately, as Finwë’s behaviour made everyone even more worried. Finwë quickly obeyed, sitting down beside Indis.  

“Someone _please_ tell me the logic of poisoning the Noldor High King’s oldest son and his offspring in the middle of a feast like this…Clearly, I can understand that the Kinslayings are still a sensitive topic for many when it comes to the House of Fëanor, but really…if the Allfather Himself finds it perfectly acceptable to forgive them for their past sins and even allowing them to be granted a new life here in Aman, then surely we others, the Firstborn of His Children, should be able to follow the One in His forgiveness…”

Amarië did have a very strong point in her words, nods in agreement came from several others in the royal family around the healing chamber where they currently was.

“And why in the middle of the Midsummer Feast, the day after their arrival to Tirion, instead of yesterday? Would not the family dinner yesterday evening have been a better choice foe this foul deed?” questioned Aegnor as he, Elenwë, Argon and Angrod’s wife Eldalótë came carrying trays with cups of hot tea to help everyone keep themselves awake.

“Maybe because the guilty Elf or Elves did not want to risk poisoning you others by mistake. First of all, it was impossible to know where we would be seated at the table out on the balcony yesterday, Instead of sitting family and family, we were mixed around the table. Sitting like that, it would have been very difficult to know which glasses the poisoned wine would be inside. Then we also had to add in Rûsa, making it an extra person at the table. But this evening, we were seated at pre-arranged seats at the tables and there were also no way the poisoned wine could be mixed up with another, especially if you placed a note on the wine bottle for the serving servants that it was for Fëanor and his children,” suggested Eöl before drinking his tea and making a face at getting too much sugar in it for his personal taste. Aredhel quickly switched their cups before he could complain about the over-sugared tea.

“In other words, Rûsa’s presence yesterday prevented anything from happen, but it was a much better chance of success today…and from what Saira told us earlier, it almost seemed like Rûsa was the target for the bullying from the start…”

Because of how stressed he had been earlier in his worry for Maedhros, Rûsa had been given a sleeping draught so he had fallen asleep for the night and were now sleeping rather heavily on a spare bed in the healing chamber.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Maedhros gasped, feeling a new wave of pain_ _in the abdomen. She knew that it was very likely to be early labour pains, she had to be due any day now._

_“Please, little one…not yet…not yet…!”_

_But she knew that it was no use. Sooner or later, her child needed to come out. She could not keep it inside her forever. And if Maedhros were honest, so was she_ _absolutely terrified for giving birth. Not because of the pain or because of that she was unfamiliar with the whole event. Rather the opposite, since as the oldest of seven siblings and so many cousins she had often ended up assisting her mother and aunts at births since her younger relatives had a very odd, shared habit of_ _arriving in the most unexpected situations or having a seriously_ _wrong timing for making the labour pains start. But she was terrified of what might happen under and after the birth._

_“I am not even sure if I am able to manage the birth, even with the help of the other slaves…had it been back home in Aman where I had my family for support and control over the situation where I got pregnant, I would not be this worried for my unborn child…!”_

_Because of that Taurion had killed himself only a few days after their innocent child’s conception, Maedhros had been forced to keep the child alive in her vomb all on her own. While the child was no next Spirit of Fire like her father Fëanor, Maedhros was much spiritually drained from the efforts of keeping her child alive despite the torture she had been_ _subjected to during the pregnancy. The heavy sorrow over Taurion’s death,_ _involuntary union of their bodies or not, had also drained Maedhros. She was the daughter and firstborn of Fëanor, the well-named Spirit of Fire, yet here in Angband that inherited fire in herself had grown weak and frail. Maedhros knew that, if both she and the child survived the birth, there was a risk that she would not be able to stand a second pregnancy. Her body would not be able to make it, she knew that in all of her own self._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maedhros groaned weakly, as she fought to wake up. She felt like a newborn kitten must do after birth, her limbs heavy and mind oddly blank.

“Maitimo has awaken, everyone!”

Voices. Those of nearly everyone in her big family. But someone among them were missing…the voice that should be there…

“Ammë!!”

Ah, there he was. Her son, blocking out all the others from her sight. Her poor, emotionally frail boy who must have been absolutely terrified when it became clear that it had been poison in the wine her father and brothers had been drinking alongside herself.

“Rûsa…easy now, sweetheart. I am here.” whispered Maedhros in a weak voice, hoping to comfort him and reduce his anxiety. It seemed to have the desired effect, for she saw how Rûsa relaxed a bit.

“How are you feeling, Nelyo?” asked Elrond, carefully moving Rûsa aside for a quick check on her.

“A lot like on my bad days back in the First Age. Doubts that I even have the energy for leaving the bed for a couple of days…”

A similar answer came from Feanor in the other bed, as he had also woken up not too long ago.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

With some carefully made persuasion, did Celebrimbor manage to bring Rûsa along to the dining room for some late breakfast.

“How come that yourself, grandmother and my two aunts did not drink the poisonous wine, cousin?”

“Simple. I do not like red wine, it brings back unpleasant memories of a particular Fallen Maia that both of us two has a very good reason to dislike. Our common grandmother Nerdanel and aunt Rainiel favour fruit drinks instead, while my mother Astarë does not touch any sort of wine after a rather mean prank some younger relatives made on her many years before she married my Atar,” replied Celebrimbor in answer. Rûsa made a dark, almost murderous grimace at the mention of Sauron, having learned about the way in which Celebrimbor had been killed back in the Halls of Mandos.

“Good morning to the two of you. Any news about uncle and your aunt, Tyelpë?” asked Turgon from his seat at the table as he cut up some bread for his wife Elenwë.

“Aunt Nelyo and Haru Fëanor have both woken up. But it looks like they will need to stay here for a couple of days, the poison made them both very weak. But my own Atar and my uncles will likely be back on their feet in a day or two, seeing that they seemed to have drunk a smaller amount of the poisoned wine than Haru and aunt Nelyo.”

Sitting down on at a empty seat, Celebrimbor helped Rûsa reach for some bread and butter. Since he had the body of a very young Elfling, it was not unheard off that Rûsa could get in a less than pleased mood if he was unable to reach something and nobody helped him.

“Thanks, cousin.”

“Do you want tea or just milk, Rûsa?” wondered Finrod as he was about to pour up some tea for Saira.

“Only milk for me, thanks. And can someone pass the honey while we are at it?”

Some people might think that Rûsa’s manners might not be the best around, but he had came a very long way in terms of behaviour in the past eleven years since he had been reborn together with Celebrimbor. Ignoring the adults in favour for eating the breakfast in front of him, Rûsa did not listen to their talk between the pieces of breakfast.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As Rûsa had a life-long instinct from Angband to check for possible escape routes each time he came to a new location, it was perhaps no wonder that he ended up exploring the royal palace once he had finished breakfast. It was huge, with lots of staircases, corridors and chambers to get lost in, but lucky Saira was quick to draw him a basic map over the most important rooms right before she had to go to her morning practice in sewing with her mother.

“Lets see…I just turned right here, so…yes, this is the palace library, just like what the maps says…maybe I can find something for ammë and Haru to read while they rest…”

Even if Rûsa was fairly good at reading and writing in Tengwar runes now thanks to master Rumil’s lessons and patience, he still struggled with them at times because of his life-long illiteracy back in the First Age. Thanks to this minor flaw of his, it took Rûsa some time before he found some familiar books that it also was volumes of back home in the family library in Formenos as well.

“There. Those four books are not too heavily for me to carry…”

Rolling up the map and sticking it into his leather belt so he would not drop it somewhere, Rûsa made himself ready to lift up the four books in his arms.

“ _What do you mean by that Fëanor and his seven brats are still alive?!_ ”

Rûsa suddenly froze in his movements by hearing that male voice on the other side of the bookshelf.

“ _I-I am sorry, sir, I really tried to give them the wine when lord Elrond was not around…_ ”

A female voice. A palace maid? Whoever she was, Rûsa knew that sort of terrified voice: when someone you cared for, was being held captive as security on that you would not gossip about something illegal you were forced to do. He knew that scenario terribly well from Angband, it had been one of the reasons to why he had covered Maeglin’s escape.

“ _Whatever. As someone who works in the healing wing, you have access to the items in there. Use a sleeping potion or something that can be passed on as a help to sleep. Give them all an enough high dosage to make it look like they pass away to the Halls of Mandos in their sleep. Otherwise, it will be your infant son who will pay the price._ ”

“ _No! Please no! Not my baby…please…!_ ”

Rûsa had heard enough to get some basic information. The female was someone who worked in the healing wing, who was a mother to a infant son, which likely was kidnapped to make the mother take the blame in the real culprit’s place. Once both of the adults had left, Rûsa knew that it would be a matter of time before the poor mother tried to kill his family again.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the palace kitchen, the cooks and kitchen servants were talking about the poisoning of the House of Fëanor yesterday evening as they worked.

“Really! To dare to do such a wicked deed when the Crown prince and his family finally shows up here in Tirion again!”

“Yeah, talk about wasted work, when we did our best to create the whole royal family’s favourite foods from the Years of the Trees and then none of it ended up being eaten thanks to the poisoning…”

“And I had hoped that it would be something that princess Maitimo’s little son might enjoy as well…”

Suddenly there was a new voice coming from the door:

“Excuse me.”

 It was Rûsa, who simply had followed his nose to find the palace kitchen. After all, the sense of smell had been very important for him when he eventually had ended up losing part of his hearing and eyesight during his long life in Angband’s dark underground pits. Naturally, his surprise visit made some of the kitchen servants stop in what they were doing.

“Prince Russafinwë! What are you doing here?”

“Ah…I was just wondering if some of you might be able to help me in something. Is there possibly someone among the staff in the healing wing that is a mother? I want to thank her for the herb tea she gave my mother earlier this morning and happened to hear her mention her own child.”

Even if Rûsa were not so good at pretending to be a innocent child, he still had some of his grandfather Fëanor’s now infamous oratory skills with words.   

“Ah, you must mean sweet Melimë, the female healer who had a son half a year ago! Yes, she is working today, took over the job meant for a co-worker whose older child somehow broke his leg two days ago…”

That was enough information for Rûsa to start binding the threads together into a possible way to explain how the poisoning had happened. The real culprit, the male, must have kidnapped Melimë’s infant son to force her to help him and ensured that she took the place of her co-worker. And changing her working uniform from a healer robe to the clothes of a serving maid would not be so difficult, not with the large staff here in the palace.

“Thank you, now I know who I will look for at returning to my ammë.”

Giving them his best friendly smile, Rûsa hurried away.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Inside a royal office:

Finwë sighed deeply, unable to focus on today’s work after talking to the investigative Maiar that the Valar had sent to Tirion in the very moment that they learned about the poisoning. Even if he knew that Fëanor and Maedhros no longer was in danger, he still felt a massive guilt over that he had been unable to prevent the poisoning from happening.

“What a great king I am…here my oldest son and his family finally shows up in Tirion again, and so they get this kind of greeting just one day after their return…eh!?”

Suddenly there was a very hard jerk on his right sleeve, strong enough to make the surprised High King fall to the floor on his side.

_Thud!_

“Ow! What… Rûsa!? What are you doing under my desk?”

“Sh!”

Rûsa quickly put his small hand over Finwë’s mouth to keep him silent. Then, once he was sure that no one had heard the king fall to the floor from the outside, he told Finwë what he had overheard in the library.

“So you think that poor Melimë is being forced to make a new attempt to kill your family or it might be her son who is harmed for her failure?!”

“Yes! I already told Elrond and Celebrian on the way here, so they will try to catch her before she attempts the crime, but I do not know who the male is…”

There was a knock on the door. Pushing in Rûsa to hide under the desk, Finwë was quick to get up on his feet and straighten his robes so it would not be noticed that he had been on the floor.

“Please enter.”

The door opened.

“Thank you for letting me came here today despite everything that happened with your firstborn and his children yesterday on the feast, your Majesty.”

Rûsa froze in shock and fear at hearing the voice. It was the male from the library!

“Well, since you said that bottle with the poisoned wine was from your family’s viticulture, lord Nárion, I can understand that you wanted to ensure that your family’s reputation as the finest wine growers around Tirion are not blacklisted because of this,” answered Finwë, completely unaware about how nervous his youngest Fëanorian great-grandson currently was, where he hid under the desk. The two adults talked a little bit about a couple of things unrelated to the poisoning of Fëanor’s family, before Finwë felt Rûsa start writing something on his thigh under the desk with his fingers:

_He is the male Elf I heard in the library! Try to make him stay here as long as possible and call on queen Indis to get the Maiar here by your marriage bond!_

Lord Nárion smiled calmly and bowed his head as respect for Finwë. Then, without any sort of possible warning aheard, he said something that was the equality of asudden volcanic eruption: 

“However, there is a small complaint that I also gave to the overseers of the royal court before I arrived here, mainly that of princess Nelyafinwë’s son. It seems like he attacked my youngest son and his friends when they simply wanted to play with princess Saira. If you ask me, my King, so does it seem like your oldest granddaughter is not the best of mothers when it comes to teaching her own offspring manners or even how to behave around people. After all…old rumours from the First Age alone seem to claim that she actually turned _insane_ after her captivity in the Dark Lord’s hands. And how do we know that her son is not the result of _a forbidden sin_ between herself and one of her six younger brothers, or perhaps even with prince Fëanáro himself?”

Something in Rûsa snapped at hearing those words. They reminded him about Sauron’s mockery back in Angband, how Morgoth openly had told him that it was all his fault that Maeglin had died in the Fall of Gandolin because he had letting her escape from Angband.

“…I shall talk with Nelyo about her son’s behaviour,” said Finwë in a cold voice while he forcefully kept Rûsa pushed up against the inside of the desk with his knee and held his hand over his mouth so that he would keep quiet and not be revealed. Not a easily task, not even for Fëanor and his sons when it happened at times in Formenos, but Finwë managed it without even showing any hint of pain when Rûsa did actually bite him in the palm.

“While you are at it, tell princess Nelyafinwë that the old offer of marrying into my family still remains…I might be married myself nowadays, but I have three adult sons that might be willing to court her…after all, she can’t remain unwed while being a mother.”   

 

Lord Nárion bowed, but just as he opened the door to leave Finwë’s office, he was met with a full set of spears pointed against his face and chest. Eönwë were quick to put handcuffs on the Elf lord before he could react.

“ _Lord Nárion, you are hereby arrested for kidnapping, blackmail, attempted Kinslaying on the House of Fëanor and for openly defy the Wishes of our All-Father Eru Ilúvatar by your deeds against prince Fëanáro’s House_.”

As the protesting lord Nárion was being lead away by the Maiar, did Finwë finally allow the furious Rûsa get out from his hiding spot under the desk. Rûsa did not say anything before he rushed out. Taking a look on the bleeding wound in his palm after Rûsa’s teeth, Finwë could hear Rûsa yelling out a lot of very loud and also, by Aman standards, terribly shocking insults against lord Nárion in the corridor, quickly followed by sounds of something that could only be something valuable breaking against someone’s head.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa was not very quiet in his screaming. In fact, Rûsa’s yells could be heard in nearly all the palace, shocking a lot of people who suddenly stopped with what they were doing. In the healing wing, Celegorm rose on his elbows at hearing the sounds of his nephew’s echoed yells from the floors above.  

“Ugh…who or what made Rûsa snap like that _this_ time?” he complained out aloud, making similar complaining being heard from the beds where his siblings and father were.  

“So much for any attempts to not make it look like he is the next Curufinwë Fëanáro for people outside Formenos…” grumbled Maedhros to herself before she pulled out the pillow from under her head and covered her face with it, knowing that the pious overseers at the royal court was going to give her hell over her son’s screaming right now.   


	11. Defending your family honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after revealing who it is that tried to poison his maternal family, Rûsa gets to see Tirion

Maedhros' worry turned out to be right. The overseers at the royal court were not pleased at all with Rûsa’s behaviour, especially as lord Nárion had been smart enough to leave the complaint to them before coming toFinwë’s office.

“Really, princess Nelyafinwë! How can you let your son behave like a savage when he is of royal blood?!”

“On top of that, why are your _husband _ not here? Surely this would have been a good time to presenting him for the royal family?”

That was the question Maedhros had been fearing the most, and for a very good reason. She looked away, before she finally forced herself to say in a neutral voice:

“Our marriage was  _annulled_ by the Valar because we did not really fit together _._ Which is why no one can see the shadow of a marriage bond in my eyes when they are up close.”

As she expected, the more pious ones of the overseers looked ready to faint from the shock over her words. Well, it was not like she actually had revealed the truth about how Rûsa had been conceived.

“ _WHAT!?_ ”

“Of all the…how do you even dare to show yourself outside if you are a unwed mother?! Do you have any idea how your son will be seen because of that…that folly of yours!?”

“Don’t you have any shame in that new body of yours, princess? Do you really think that you will be able to have the same freedom to do as you want like how it was for you in Middle-earth?!” 

“Shut up with that damn nonsense about what is proper and not proper for a royal princess! My daughter is a mature and adult woman since a very long time ago! She has any right to do as she pleases, be it as a daughter or as a mother! Really, you people seem to have forgotten over the past three Ages of the Sun that she nearly was a third parent for my sons…” snapped Fëanor in a angry tone from his bed, looking far from pleased over that Maedhros was blamed for being a bad parent.

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

At the same time, Rûsa had managed to flee out from the palace by a window after knocking lord Nárion unconscious with a vase. Now he hurried along the streets, keeping his head down and on his guard in case people from the palace soon would start searching for him. Time being still fairly early in the forenoon he was not hungry yet, but instead choose to simply hide at different places and watch how the daily life was here in Tirion.

“Is it true that princess Nelyafinwë has a child?”

“Yeah, several of the palace servants have confirmed it. They have seen him several times.”

“Really?! A son of her own flesh and blood?” 

Rûsa stopped walking, carefully hiding himself between a pair of empty barrels so he would not be seen. The talking Elves was standing at a water well for drinking water, looking as if they often met at that spot for a quick piece of talking.

“But the strange thing is…there is no mention of her marrying…”

“Surely you can’t mean that she is a unwed mother! The time in the Halls of the Mandos must have cured her from any insanity she might have suffered from in the First Age after her captivity…”   

“Unless there is another possibility about the child’s father…”

“Don’t even think about mentioning it here in the open! Such acts between siblings, or even between a parent and child, are unthinkable!”

“Then it can’t be any of her two wedded brothers, her law-sisters surely would notice… _AH!_ ”

**Splash!**

Suddenly someone, a tall male Elf with dark bronze-coloured skin tone and white hair in a long braid, used a filled bucket to throw cold water on them from the other side of the well.

“I would not recommend you to spread such lies and false rumours about the House of Fëanor. A notable number of their old followers live here in Tirion as well, and they tend to be… _rather protective_ when it comes to the honor of their former Lords and Lady, to put it lightly. Especially when it comes to princess Nelyafinwë, given what happened to her shortly after her sire’s death back in the first battle against Morgoth’s Balrogs. Yes, some people might not like that the House of Fëanor is starting to grow in new members again, but really, shall a innocent child have to suffer for the parent’s sins of the past? Sins in a past life that the child in question might not even be aware of? announced Rog in a very icy voice, his furious glare warning the rumour-mongers from even trying to say against him.

“Yes. And that kid you are badmouthing also happens to have far more honor than what you people seem to have. Spreading lies about his lady mother like that…is it because of that Maitimo quickly broke off her relationship with your master, Lord Nárion, back in their youth when it came out that he only planned to marry her for her status as the heiress of her father the Crown prince?”

This time it was master Rumil who spoke, with his hands on his hips and looking rather pissed off to hear such rumours about the House of Fëanor. Being frightened by the two different Elf Lords, the trio of paid rumour-mongers were quick to hurry away.

“Annoying brats…I would like to see how they had survived in the First Age,” said Rumil as he pushed back his hair. Rog nodded as he hauled down the bucket into the well to hoist up some new water for drinking.

“Trust me, they would never have survived long on the Grinding Ice with lord Fingolfin’s host. Rather, it would not surprise me if they had been among the first deaths under that long wandering…”

Rog drunk a little of the water, by using a water-scoop that was chained to a post at the water well.

“Speaking about wandering…what are you doing out here on your own, Rûsa?” asked Rumil without looking over his shoulder. Rûsa froze in surprise for a moment or two, before he peeked out from his hiding spot.

“Can we just say that I wanted to get out from the palace, please?”

Rûsa rarely begged for a favour of any kind, and the fact that he pleaded now hinted that he likely would be in serious trouble if it came out that he had sneaked out from the palace. Sighing, Rumil shook on his head as he gently pushed Rûsa forwards.

“Come on, young one, if you want to explore Tirion properly, you better do it with someone who has lived here since the city was built…”

As Rumil started to go away with him, Rûsa called to Rog:

“Thanks for defending my mother, mister!”

First a little surprised by his words, Rog slowly smiled as he raised a hand in farewell.

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

True to his words, Rumil showed Rûsa around in Tirion. He told much of the city’s history, important events that once had happened there.

“But did you not ever get tired of teaching my mother’s family? I mean, given my uncles' personalities…”

“There was a few times of such feelings, I admit that, but on the same time, they gave me a lot of different challenges as students. Although your grandfather Fëanor was the biggest one before yourself.”

A quick visit in Mahtan’s forge really cheered up Rûsa. From the very first meeting 11 years ago, he had been able to bond with Nerdanel’s father in a unusual way even for him and he always enjoyed the times when Mahtan and his wife Failë came to visit in Formenos. When they left Mahtan’s forge, Rûsa drew attention to the sound of an very familiar song:

_How many can hear me calling?_

_I do, I do, we do!_

_What’s happening today?_

_Freedom, freedom_

_And happiness!_

_Come on, everyone_

_It is time to play._

_Everything around us_

_Reveals the plain truth_

_That ever-lasting dreams_

_Can really come true!_

_Here there is no Dark Lords_

_No horrible and deadly Evil!_

_We have finally reached_

_A very distant dream._

_Peaceful lands where_

_We can live in peace_

_And happiness!_

_How many can hear me calling?_

_I do, I do, we do!_

_What’s happening today?_

_Who can tell us what_

_Those lands offer us?_

_Peaceful lives and freedom_

_Freedom, freedom_

_And happiness!_

_Because in this country,_

_So do we have each others._

_Green meadows and trees,_

_And a sky so blue_

_Makes me understand_

_Dreams really can go_

_And come true in the end._

_Come and enjoy life,_

_For here we are all safe_

_What a wonderful feeling,_

_not having to fear_

_The two Dark Lords_

_Until the Final Battle._

 

Rûsa’s whole little face did light up in a huge smile. In fact, that smile reminded a lot about how Elrond first had seen Maedhros' smile in real happiness for the first time at her Rebirth, as the smile almost seemed to transform Rûsa for a moment or two.

“That’s some of my older siblings who sing that song!”

Rumil laughed at his young student’s sudden joyful energy when he heard some of his older half-sibling’s song, pleased to see more of Rûsa’s happy side of his personality. Often something special was needed to actually make Rûsa smile for real, for while he was not unpleasant in character, he still was very withdrawn as a result of his past life as a slave in Angband and nobody in the House of Fëanor doubted that it would take a long time to break him out of that habit.

“Well, let’s go and talk with them for a few minutes then if that is what you want. No doubt that they also would be worried about your family, seeing that rumours about the poisoning did spread a lot around the city yesterday evening. I am sure that news about your maternal family being safe, will calm many worried souls,” said Rumil, letting Rûsa walk on a small stone wall on the loremaster’s left side while talking. Rumil had met Taurion and his many other offspring several times before, so he knew who they were.

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

Back up in the royal palace’s healing wing, everyone in the Fëanorian family could tell that Maedhros was far from being in a good mood where she laid in her bed. Of course, anyone would be in a bad mood after being painted as a bad parent just because of your child’s unusual behaviour and being told straight to your face that it was unthinkably improper to be a single parent if you were of royal blood.

“That’s it. Once Nelyo and I are strong enough to ride our horses without falling off, we are leaving Tirion. While it is pleasant to be back home in our birth-city, no one will come here and think that they can tell our copper-princess to marry as quick as possible…” said Fëanor out loudly, closing the book his older grandson had given him before going way to search for where Rûsa could be hiding himself this time.

“Who wants to make a bet on that Rûsa will end up chasing away all of sister’s coming suitors?” asked Caranthir, knowing that almost of his brothers could resist an bet of that kind. Much to Nerdanel’s displeasure, her other sons took the bait.

“One good month’s hunting game on that from me,” commented Celegorm where he laid in a bed, using the sleeping Huan as mattress.

“Two new silver circlets on that Nelyo herself will do that,” added Curufin from his side of the chamber. Maglor chose to stay out of the bet, not wanting to lose one of his beloved harps as part of it. Amrod and Amras added a hunting knife each on that at least one of Maedhros coming suitors would try and woo her by the use of letters as many old-flashioned Elves in Tirion saw a threat in Formenos' quickly raising star as the most important city in the north, and therefore would try to lessen that threat by making Maedhros return to live in Tirion. After all, as a unit, the House of Fëanor was a very powerful force. Then, Maedhros herself said:

“Add in my belief that my son will end up finding who has been giving me all those anonymous jewelry-gifts and love letters that I have been given ever since I came of age back in the Years of the Trees all the way to the Darkening of Valinor and since my rebirth.”

They heard how serious she was, so no one of her brothers dared to make a joke about the bet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is based on both the Swedish and English version of “Peaceful Valley” from Land Before Time II


	12. Gift from a special someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fëanor's family leaves Tirion after the events, and Maedhros gets a gift

True to Fëanor’s words, the House of Fëanor was quick to leave Tirion before things went totally out of control over the news that the royal court was playing match-makers with Maedhros. With some unexpected help of the Houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin, they snuck out of Tirion in the middle of the night so they could mix in with the Wood clan later at the crack of dawn when the six Avari clans went separate ways for their summer camps.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Right now, on the third day after leaving Tirion, did they give some deeper details in why they had needed to leave the Noldorin capital so fast.  

“So…since those pious Elves at the Noldorin royal court has managed to create a rather notable scandal about it because of that our…union were annulled by the Valar before I was Reborn in the Second Age, Maedhros has to “find a husband and become a proper married woman”? Seriously, if there had been a custom of taking more than one wife, I would already have made Atara and Maedhros sister-wives a long time ago after asking for her hand by lord Fëanor and lady Nerdanel if they had allowed it!” commented Taurion aloud in disbelief, then he was heard muttering for himself about “ _ignorant, spoiled High Elves who have absolutely no idea about how things actually was in Angband and in Middle-earth during the Dark Lord’s terror_ ” as he rode ahead of the House of Fëanor.

“Well, that went just like we guessed. At least we know that Taurion has enough common sense to have helped in this case if he had been able to…” said Nerdanel, to which Fëanor nodded in agreement. They both liked Taurion as a friend and would not have minded to have him as a possible law-son if things had been different. That he was Rûsa’s biological father and had taken responsibility for all of his fifteen baseborn children was also a big bonus in their eyes.

“What does ada mean by “sister-wives”, ammë? I think I once heard a similar term being used by the Esterling Men when they spoke about their marriage customs, but I never really understood what it meant…” asked Rûsa from where he was riding with Maedhros in front of her saddle. She smiled down at him.

“Bór, an Esterling Chieftain who eventually became known as the Faithful thanks to his loyalty to Káno and myself until his death in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, once told me that they had the custom of having more than one wife because of that their lifestyle was harsh and dangerous. There were always a huge risk that a husband would be killed in battle against Orcs, so if there was more than one wife married to a husband, they were called sister-wives because of the common belief in that by sharing a husband, the wives became sisters in their duties as wives.”

“Oh. I see. Much nicer word than concubine if you asks me…” said Rûsa when he now understood what that term actually meant.

“I would not mind sharing Taurion with you if there had been such a custom with sister-wives among the Avari Elves, Maedhros, but I prefer having him all for myself, thank you!” remarked Atara in a no-nonsense voice as she rode past Maedhros, who gave her a nervous smile in return. Around them, other members in the Wood clan gave their own thoughts about hearing what Maedhros would have to face in the coming future. Maedhros was very grateful for their support and agreement that if she had managed to raise Rûsa well so far in his new life, then she would not need a husband for that.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

When the Wood clan later made up camp for the night, one of Rûsa’s seven older half-brothers came in carrying something.

“What do you have there, Lyrin?” asked Caranthir when the Avari warrior came closer to the tents where the House of Fëanor would sleep.

“Well…when I helped to pack out things from one of the carriages where we have chests and such things during the journeys, we found this chest that no one of us recognized, so I wanted to show it to you in case it was yours.”

Lyrin put down the small wooden chest on the grass, and they took a closer look on it. It was Maedhros who first saw a familiar pattern in the wood, that of a carefully craved rose into the middle of the classical Fëanorian star on the chest’s lid.  

“Hey, this is the wood chest that always carries the jewelry-gifts from my secret admirer! I always send it back empty with a carriage leaving Formenos as a sign of that I have accepted the gifts…how in the world did it end up here?”

Taking out a small iron key that she wore in a leather sling around her neck like a unusual necklace, Maedhros tried to keep her hand from shaking in excitement as she slowly opened the chest lock, curious about what kind of gift she would get this time from her secret admirer.

“Oh!”

There, on the inside in red cloth, laid seven wonderfully made bejewelled hairpins of gold with different flower sets of emeralds, sapphires, amethyst and diamonds.

“Whoever he is, he always manages to spoil me…” mumbled Maedhros with an almost starry-eyed look in her grey eyes. More than one of her six brothers made a gagging sound behind her.

“Oh great!”

“Seriously?!”       

“Not that damn look…if she is going to be anything like Káno and Curvo was when they were in the start of courting Rainiel and Astarë, I am moving out…” muttered Caranthir, shaking on his head in disbelief of seeing his sister act like a love-stuck young she-elf in the oh-so-hopeless years between the age of 50 and 100 years, those years when many young Elves often had their first crushes on someone and it was not uncommon with bitter heartbreak.

“There is something tied around one of the hairpins, Nelyo.”

Slowly, Maedhros took away the small parchment from the hairpin with small ruby roses and rolled up it to read.  

 

_How do I love thee? Let me count the ways._

_I love thee to the depth and breadth and height_

_My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight_

_For the ends of Being and ideal Grace._

_I love thee to the level of every day's_

_Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight._

_I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;_

_I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise._

_I love with a passion put to use_

_In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith._

_I love thee with a love I seemed to lose_

_With my lost heart, I love thee with the breath,_

_Smiles, tears, of all my life! And, if Eru choose,_

_I shall but love thee better after death._

 

Maedhros blushed deeply when she finished reading the love poem, trying her best to not start gigging in joy. Even if she never knew who sent those gifts and poems to her, she always enjoyed the moments when she got them. Fëanor took a look at another hairpin.

“Very good work. Clearly someone who has the sense of knowing what matches Nelyo’s colours and what does not. And it is pleasant to know that at least _someone_ seems to woo her honestly despite everything with the Oath, even if he never reveals his name. If he was able to start giving her gifts again after our Rebirths, along with the fact that he actually has sent gifts for her ever since she came of age…”

Picking up a hairpin with emeralds, Nerdanel started to make up her daughter’s bright red hair into a bun with the hairpins as details. Why store them away when she just had gotten them?

“Hm? There is something else in the chest…”

A much smaller hairpin of silver, with pieces of obsidian forming a small mole figure. Naturally, everyone’s gaze went towards a puzzled Rûsa, who was completely ignorant of why they would be staring at him like that.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_It had been night when she finally entered Gondolin thought the small, hidden tunnel she had made over the years behind the House of the Mole. So carefully made that no one of her followers knew about it. She was so tired…wanted only to slip into her bed and sleep._

_“Please…please don’t let anyone see me…”_

_Even with the small amount of food_ _Rûsa had given her as travel-food just before her escape, it had been a long journey back. Hiding from the Orcs, trying to cover as much distance from Angband that she could do between every rest without collapsing from fatigue, trying to remember which way they had taken her…_

_“I just…want to sleep…”_

_Locking the door to her bedroom, Maeglin did not even attempt to change out of the clothes of black leather Rûsa had sewn for her. Collapsing down on her own bed, so unbelievable soft in contrast to the hard bed in Rûsa’s private chamber, Maeglin felt herself drift into a exhausted sleep the moment her head hit the pillow. Yet even there, she felt the horrible guilt of being the Hidden City’s unknown destroyer by her betrayal. If her betrayal ever was revealed in a moment of weakness, Maeglin was sure that she would share the same fate as her father Eöl had done nearly 110 years earlier: execution by being thrown off the steep cliff of the Caragdûr. No matter how much Turgon loved his sister-daughter, a betrayal to Morgoth would never be forgiven and had to be punished._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maeglin was sitting in the tent she shared with her parents every time they travelled with the Metal clan. The old memories from Gondolin haunted her tonight, bringing back her feelings of guilt and fear that she had felt once people had discovered that she finally was back after three months of disappearance from the Hidden city.

“The questions about where I had been…why l had been gone for so long…the openly scolding for not giving any signs of still being alive…”

Even in his overbearing joy and relief that she had came back reasonable unharmed when they had parted in bitter anger over the shouting match between them just hours before Maeglin has sneaked out from Gondolin, Turgon had still punished Maeglin with three months of house arrest under Idril’s and Tuor’s watchful eyes because of how worried she had made everyone in Gondolin with her disappearance. Strangely enough, Maeglin had not even cared for protesting despite that the house arrest also had meant that she would not be allowed to work in her forge. At that time, all she had wished for was to be left alone in her unspeakable anxiety over her betrayal.

“I could not tell of why I had been gone for so long or what had happened under that time…the slave brand on my back acted like a spell, stopping any attempts I made to reveal the truth. Although…Idril soon spotted part of the truth by seeing the shadow of a marriage bond in my eyes and then by carefully arranging things so it could look like a surprise when she and Tuor would see the slave brand on my back in the bath…”

Despite the first shock at seeing the slave brand on her back, Idril had wept and embraced Maeglin when she understood where her cousin had been under the three months that she had been lost from Gondolin. The truth had been a far worse reveal than if they had found Maeglin dead somewhere in the mountains around the valley where Gondolin were hidden.

“ _How many times shall the Dark Enemy destroy the exiled Noldor from the inside by using one of our own against us others?!_ ”

That had been a very good question at the time, and a remaining one under the rest of the First Age. In the end, Gondolin had fallen, all thanks to her.

“At least I was strong enough to keep myself silent for two months before I revealed Gondolin…that was a tiny light of comfort in all of the guilt…”

Picking up something from the ground, Maeglin absentmindedly turned around the silver hairpin with a mole made in pieces of obsidian that she had found in her travel bag two days earlier when the Metal clan had made up camp for the night. She had a suspicion about who it was that had made the hairpin, but choose to not think about it. After all, in her case, she knew that it was only a gift of friendship between them.

“On the other hand, _he_ has started to act a little bit differently over the years…I might have promised to not ask or talk about it, but I am starting to think that he actually is courting a chosen lady in secret…I just wonder for how long he has managed to do that behind our backs…?”

Maeglin was curious about this new mystery around one of her friends, but she would notinvestigate the matter herself. No, better to let it come out at their own pace and see what came out of it. Anyhow, Maeglin looked forwards to how the future would be in the coming years, especially when it came to news about how things would go with the stories of Maedhros' coming suitors and how Rûsa would deal with it.

“If Rûsa is anything like he was with me back in the short month together in Angband, her suitors really have no idea what kind of opponent they will face!”

Covering her face with her pillow so to not wake up her sleeping parents, Maeglin laughed as loud as she could do at the moment, already having a couple of mental images how a lot of Maedhros' possible suitors would be looking after being chased away from her by a very protective Rûsa. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem found on poemhunter dot com, in the love part


	13. Reunion of old friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unexpected old friends from Middle-earth shows up in Formenos

Year 24 of the Fourth Age. Two years had now passed since the poisoning attempt on the House of Fëanor. In the trial, under a lot of carefully aimed questions that forced him into a corner with no way of escaping, lord Nárion had finally revealed the reason to why he had tried to kill Fëanor and his children indirectly by the poison:

The humiliation of Maedhros ending their relationship in front of the whole royal court, on the very day that he had believed to be the ideal day of revealing their coming betrothal, along with the sight of Rûsa as the ultimate proof of that not only had Eru forgiven Maedhros for her past actions as a kinslayer, but even allowing her to be reborn and have a family of her own, was what forced him to do such an evil deed. The trial had ended with Nárion being convicted of attempted murder and direct defiance of the One’s Will, leading to him having his _fëa_ being forcefully torn out from his _hröa_ and incarcerated into a isolated part of the Halls of Mandos until the Final Battle. Melimë, the female healer who had been forced into trying to kill the House of Fëanor, had a much more lenient sentence. In fact, as a mother herself, Maedhros had pleaded to the Valar to not be too hard on Melimë for the sake of her young child and husband. While she was fired from her work as healer in the royal palace and exiled to the north of Aman with her family, the fact that Nárion had kidnapped and threaten to kill Melimë’s infant son if she failed in the poisoning could not be ignored.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Formenos:

“Tyelpë? Tyelpë, where are you?” called Rûsa as he searched around the garden for his older cousin. There was something he wanted to ask Celebrimbor, as his current history lessons now covered the beginning of the Second Age and he had heard mentions of his cousin being the co-builder of the Doors of Durin alongside the Dwarf Narvi.

“Tye…ah!”

Suddenly Rûsa tripped over a long pair of legs, partly hidden behind the bush he just had passed by. The owner turned out to be Celebrimbor, sitting with his back against the backdoor to his own forge.

“You called on me, Rûsa? Sorry for not answering, I was deep inside old memories so I did not really hear you calling.”

Rûsa quickly got back on his feet, brushing off the grass from his clothes as he said:

“Yeah. Master Rumil and I have just started with the Second Age in history lessons and there was a mention of…hold on, what is that item in your hand?”   

Rûsa’s black eyes behind the eye-veil had caught sight of the meerschaum pipe that Celebrimbor held in his left hand.   

“Ah, this? It is a smoking pipe, remember that time when you caught Olórin smoking in Elrond’s house because of his habits from the Third Age? Well…where to start about why I smoke in secret? This pipe is special for me, it is one of the few things that was saved from the destruction of Eregion, most likely found to be of no value for Sauron when I was captured. However…had he known why this pipe holds so much emotional value for me, I am sure that he would have destroyed it in front of my very eyes…”

Knocking out the ash from the pipe’s chamber and cleaning it with a rag, Celebrimbor let Rûsa hold it carefully for a closer look. The pipe was still a masterwork almost Two Ages since it had been made even if it had turned amber in colour with age, along with a elegant inscription of Celebrimbor’s and Narvi’s names on each side.

“That explains why you sometimes chew on peppermint leaves. Is it to hide the smell of smoke around you even after that you have been inside the forge where a such scent would be partly hidden?” asked Rûsa in a very blunt, direct way. His older cousin only raised a eyebrow at him.

“Reveal my smoking for the rest of our family and I will force you to eat a whole plate of broccoli,” replied Celebrimbor in a calm voice, knowing that nearly everyone in his family absolutely detested said vegetable for different reasons. As expected, Rûsa paled and quickly handed back the pipe at hearing that threat before he hurried away.    

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa then searched around Formenos for his mother and her newest suitor. The male Elf in question was rather likeable in contrast to many others of her past suitors, if a little bland in personality and that kind of person who easily could be overwhelmed by the many forceful personalities in Fëanor’s family. But he was the middle son of an old family friend from Tirion and only pretended to woo Maedhros in exchange for getting a little extra help in setting up his work as tailor in Formenos.

“Excuse me…sorry! Pardon me, lady…uff!”

As it was a market day, Rûsa had to press himself between adults at times to come forwards.

“Good morning, young master Rûsa!”

“Hi, Rûsa! Come and play with us later, please.”

“I will see if I can come, first I have my ammë to find!”

He greeted many family friends and young play-mates as he hurried past the market stands. If he was right, his mother might be here somewhere around the shops.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Inside a tailor shop:

“Ammë! Ammë, where are you?”

Maedhros hid a faint smile at the sound of her son’s voice.

“Looks like it is best you hurry away before my boy uses his slingshot to shoot nuts or something similar at you. Yes, it is true that he is gentler with you and a couple others among my suitors so far, but I do believe it is best to not give him a reason to be jealous. Even if he knows that you are not really courting me, one never knows how he can misinterpret what he sees.”

Táro, the Elf who just had finished taking her measurements for a new outfit with his measure tape, nodded while rolling the measure tape together again. The simple idea of masking their tailor meetings as dates like this had been a suggestion from his father when Táro had moved to Formenos shortly after the events with the attempted poisoning of the House of Fëanor.    

“I am perfectly fine with getting shot with nuts straight at my forehead, as long as I can still be allowed to finish your outfits, princess.”

Táro was still young, hardly older than 500 years at the most, but he had a famous eye for even the tiniest of details, and what kind of clothes and colours that could bring out another Elf's inner self perfectly. The first time Maedhros had worn one of his outfits among people during a market day, it had not taken long for him to get a lot of orders. He took a lot of pleasure in giving the House of Fëanor outfits meant only for them. To say that he also enjoyed the challenge that was Rûsa, was an underestimation.

“I am sorry for that my boy takes after me and grows like a weed despite that he is only 14 years old…at this rate, he is going to be bigger and older-looking than his peers within a few years!”  

“More work for me, then.”

Being that tall as she was, Maedhros had no need of standing on a foot-stand while Táro and his assistants pinned up a base for a new dress for her. As she was allowed to lower her arms, Rûsa showed up in the front door, trying his best to get free from a large greyish white, half-grown puppy that came from one of Huan’s litters a couple of years ago.

“Snowflake, stop pulling on my tunic!”

And just like in the First Age, Rûsa was not too imaginative when it came to naming his pet. He had ended up being given Snowflake by Oromë two years ago when the House of Fëanor had returned home to Formenos. Just like her sire Huan, Snowflake was very loyal towards her chosen master and often attempted to help people keep Rûsa out of trouble in everyday life.

“Snowflake, he is not going to do anything stupid. Come here, honey,” offered Maedhros as she dressed into her tunic. Snowflake let go of Rûsa, who hurried over to give his mother a hug.

“Now, son, do you happen to know why it seems to be a gathering outside at the front gates to Formenos?”

“I think Aulë is arriving.”

“Hoh, that is rare.”

Rare indeed was it for the Smith Vala to leave his Halls, and often it had a special meaning behind his visits. Like when he had visited Formenos shortly after that Fëanor and all of his children had collected in the city to finally be together as a real family again after two whole Ages apart.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

And indeed it was Aulë who was arriving to Formenos. But he was not alone or just had a couple of his Maiar along. To the surprise of many Elves who once had lived in the First Age, he had also brought some Dwarves along. Thanks to her height, Maedhros was the first one to spot a familiar face among them:

“Azaghâl!”

Indeed it was the Lord of the Dwarves of Belegost during the First Age. Rûsa was quick to step aside, before his mother almost literally did run over him as Maedhros hurried towards the riders.

“Now that’s a familiar, over-grown Elf lass I know!” said Azaghâl with a smile when he saw her famous red hair.

“That joke of yours about me being a “over-grown Elf lass” got old already back in the First Age, you sly old grumpy bear of a Dwarf,” laughed Maedhros in answer as she came closer. Dismounting from his pony, Azaghâl gave Maedhros a friendly hug around her knees, easily lifting her a bit from the ground thanks to being in his fully grown body from youth.

“Hey, put me down...” chuckled Maedhros in amusement, enjoying to see her old friend again. Azaghâl laughed as he put her back down on the ground.

“Well, clearly rebirth has been good on you, lass. Now you look like a proper Elf-dam instead of that scarred, grim warrior you were back then, apart from that impossible height of yours. It is true that ladies of any Race can be skilled warriors as well just as males, but the art of war is not a gentle one, not at all!”  

Maedhros nodded, knowing that far too well. She had never enjoyed being a warrior, but it had been the only way for her to live after being ruined in both body and soul as she had been by Angband. Her famous beauty had been destroyed by the torture, and Rûsa’s difficult birth along with being exposed to extreme starvation as she was chained by her right hand upon Thangorodrim almost right away after the birth, had eventually made her barren.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“By Mahal’s beard, lady Maedhros!_ _Your whole body is stiff as a board, even under all those layers of furs!”_

_Maedhros barely had the energy to nod in answer to Azaghâl’s lady-wife Kym when the Dwarrowdam had came to check why Maedhros yet had not arrived for breakfast, almost fully hidden in the nest of blankets and furs as she was. The sudden winter cold outside_ _Azaghâl’s halls had caused her to be reminded about the time at_ _Thangorodrim, and the mere memory were enough to cause her body to be like this._

_“S-s…sorry…”_

_So much for the plans about making up a alliance against Morgoth. Pulling herself back into the warm nest on her bed, Maedhros tried to not shiver too much._

_“Not your fault, lass. There is always someone among our own warriors that suffers like this when it is cold. We should have known, seeing all those scars on you…no, stay in bed, I will have my ladies help me fix a warm bath and a warm meal so you can move those over-long limbs of yours again. No guest of my husband shall have to stay in bed just because of the cold!”_

_Ignoring that the Dwarrowdam made her sound like a young child, Maedhros nodded, grateful for the understanding._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Meanwhile, in one of the local schools in Formenos, Rumil was not having a too great day. No, it was not because of Rûsa having a unexpectedly tantrum that would end in him running off from his lessons, or said student being moody over things with his mother’s suitors again. No, the reason behind the loremaster’s currently less than pleasant mood was a event that had taken place yesterday. Because of rumours about his behaviour, no doubt created thanks to a lot of misunderstandings, many Noldorin nobles hoped to win Maedhros' favour by sending over tutors for Rûsa. To say that it was a 99 % change of failing especially if said tutor also attempted to treat him as a uneducated child when his mind was that of a adult was almost laughable. Showing that he indeed could have a similar temper as his maternal family, Rûsa had often ended up chasing away many of those unasked-for tutors out of Formenos, scaring them away for life with his now infamous foul language from Angband and unexpected skills in using anything that could be used as a weapon.

“Really, who first made that oh so brilliant plan? The only reason to why Rûsa even bothers to behave for me is that I have managed to win his trust and because he knows that his family would be very sad if not even I could teach him…”

Rûsa. Russafinwë Arion. The only child to princess Nelyafinwë Maitimo. Her poor, ill-begotten son who was so fey in his behaviour and mind for many that he sometimes could be mistaken for one of the First Awakened Elves. By pure luck, that sort of behaviour were not uncommon among children born to reborn Elves who once had been enslaved in Angband, so most people simply saw it as a side effect of the parents' trauma.

“No. Not the best time of thinking about that. Now I have a letter to write for the King and Queen about this…”

Dropping the quill in ink, Rumil began to write:

_My most honoured King and Queen_

_Forgive my possible rudeness in the coming meanings over this letter, but I fear that I have no other way to explain it for you both. Now, for the start, could your two honourable Majesties PLEASE ensure that no more tutors are sent to Formenos by princess Maitimo’s suitors? I fear that the whole House of Fëanor is starting to be seriously insulted over that people seem to think that prince_ _Russafinwë_ _is not educated in any sort of way and that he is allowed to grow up wild with no sense of social manner…really, as his first and longest-used tutor at Maitimo’s own request, I know myself that the youngest grandson to the High King’s firstborn son is far from being a fool. Young_ _Rûsa (his nickname, don’t ask me where they got it from!) simply is a different case in thinking, his mind does not work like others. As other children born to parents that once had been enslaved by the Enemy, he is sadly affected by his lady mother’s past trauma…_

Yes, that was a good start of his complaining to Finwë and Indis about how people misunderstood Maedhros' boy. Her partly feral, yet still so surprising street-smart son who had been born in Angband.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in the streets, the rest of Fëanor’s family had now arrived to greet the unusual guests. With lord Durin himself, one of the seven Fathers of the Dwarves, as one of the guests they could not be rude. Two other quests among the visiting Dwarves was lady Dis, the younger sister to Thorin Oakenshield, and another Dwarrowdam of stunning contrasting colours:

Her skin colour was deeply tanned, looking even darker against her white-blonde hair and beard which she had caught up in braids to get it out of the way. But it was the eyes that captured one’s gaze, grey-green in colour, switching between the two colours depending on the light and angle.

“No way…”

When he finally spotted who it was, Celebrimbor pushed his own father Curufin out of the way, in a rather rudely way.

“ _NARVI!!_ ” He shouted to her in Khuzdul, drawing the attention of many onlookers as he starts running toward her. When she saw him, Narvi took off at a run as well. They met in the middle, Celebrimbor dropping to his knees and pulling her into his arms.

“I am so sorry… _I am so sorry_   for being so stupidly blind to _his_ lies…I only wanted a way to ensure that I would never forget you no matter how long time that passed…I missed you so much…so much….”

Ignoring that people could see him, Celebrimbor wept openly. He repeated again and again in a mix of Sindarin, Quenya and Khuzdul how sorry he was and what a fool he had been for falling into Sauron’s spider web of lies back in the Second Age.

“Tyelpë.”

Narvi took his face in her own, large hands to make him meet her eyes.   

“It was not your fault. Few could have guessed that it was Sauron behind that false fair face that he showed to people.”

Hearing Narvi’s words seemed to work like a healing balm on some of the thick scars in Celebrimbor’s soul. Scars that would remain there forever, but slowly vanishing until that they was almost not seen at all.

“Rûsa! Come over here instead of hiding behind that stone pillar and greet two of my old friends from the First Age, the Dwarf lords Durin and Azaghâl,” called Maedhros with a smile, making a hand wave downwards to show her point. A little doubtful, remembering rather clearly how well the Children of Aulë could use their terrifying battle axes on a battlefield, did Rûsa obey his mother.

“Bless the Maker, how similar that young lad is in appearance to yourself, Maedhros! Have you gotten wedded and busy in motherhood now at ye rebirth, lass? After all, you did mention back in the First Age that your back-then current body were not able to bear offspring after your captivity and that was the main reason for you remaining unwed,” asked Azaghâl in surprise at seeing how similar mother and son was.

“I gave birth to Rûsa just _before_ I was chained up on that cliff from my right hand.” Maedhros muttered in answer as she swept up Rûsa in her arms, not really in the mood of remembering the pain and horror of having her newborn son taken from her in fear that he would be killed.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

After a few more minutes of talking, Maedhros offered the Dwarf guests to have lunch in her parents' house. She knew that Fëanor would love to actually meet the famed Children of Aulë because of their skills as blacksmiths and craftsmen. Knowing her father Maedhros did not doubt that it would be a lot of interesting conversations over the next days. Remembering that Dwarves loved meat, the seven children of Fëanor and Nerdanel helped each other to fix some nicely roasted lambs and vegetables for lunch.

“Rûsa, please go and see where Tyelpë and Narvi went, or they will be late for the lunch. Surely it can’t take that long to show Narvi around your cousin’s private forge?”

“Yes, aunt Astarë…Snowflake, stop pulling on my tunic or you will make holes in it from your teeth!”

Snowflake muffed in response before letting go of her young owner’s tunic, causing Rûsa to nearly fall over before finding his balance again. Quickly regaining his control, Rûsa hurried towards where Celebrimbor’s forge was in Formenos.   

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Much to Rûsa’s own growing confusion, Celebrimbor did not answer when he called for him.

“Seriously, if they are not in the forge, then it will be their own fault for being late to the lunch…”

But then, just as he opened the door to his cousin’s private forge, Rûsa deeply regretted his somewhat remaining old habit from Angband of not knock on doors before entering a room. While he was no stranger to step upon such scenes in Angband, the last 12 years here in Aman had slowly started to finally change his view about what counted as private. First there was a few shocked moments in surprise, before Celebrimbor broke the silence:  

“ _RUSSAFINWË!!_ ”

Rûsa quickly closed the door with a loud slam, blushing heavy from what he just had seen between his cousin and Narvi. The sounds of running feet was heard, revealing that Celebrimbor likely was on the way towards the door. Hurrying away before the door was jerked open, Rûsa ducked for a forge glove of leather that his cousin tossed after him.

“Tell anyone in the family what you just saw between me and Narvi right now, and I will reveal **_who_** you had as concubine back in Angband before the Fall of Gondolin! Sauron was not very quiet about that!” warned Celebrimbor in the door, naked on his upper body with his hair in a minor mess from having his braids undone and looking very pissed off to have been interrupted in a very private moment with Narvi as Rûsa fled from the forge. Said Dwarrowdam, holding her open tunic together with one hand, grabbed hold of Celebrimbor’s leather belt and pulled him back inside such that he closed the door again. 


	14. Memories and scerets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrimbor reveals something personal to his family, while Rûsa remembers something from his past

During the rest of the afternoon, it was seen that Rûsa behaved a little awkward around Celebrimbor for some unknown reason. Mainly in that he seemed to try and put himself far away from his older cousin so he could not be grabbed.

“Wonder what happened between our two nephews at lunch?” whispered Amrod to Caranthir while they took the task of washing the dishes clean after the dinner.

“Whatever it is, it clearly seemed to shock Rûsa a lot. He rarely acts like this anymore around the family,” answered Caranthir as he dried off a plate, careful to not drop it as he spoke. At the dinner table, Rûsa was busy in trying to win a simple game of coloured stones against Dis and Durin. The rules was to collect enough stones in the same colour to create the players’ Clan symbols, in their cases the eight-rayed Star of Fëanor and Durin's Axe. To not have the same symbol as her forefather, Dis instead chose her oldest brother’s famous shield of oak as her symbol in the game. 

“You are fast in this, young one! I guess that you have been training with your family?”

“A little…eh?”

Suddenly Rûsa’s black eyes were focused on the half-finished Star of Fëanor in front of him at the table. Something in the shape seemed to make him remember, a event from long ago…

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Rûsa cried like he never had done before in his life, where he was kneeling and holding Maeglin’s dead body in his arms. This horribly overwhelming pain, the heavy sorrow in his whole body and soul…_

_“…why? Why did this happen…”_

_“So, your little concubine did end up dead after all.”_

_Sauron. As Morgoth never left Angband after the duel against the High King just outside its gates, it had been him who had lead the attack on Gondolin._

_“Hmf, foolish girl. Had you never let her escape from Angband, she might still have been alive right now…”_

_“SHUT THE HELL UP!! DON’T COME ANY CLOSER TO HER!!”_

_Rûsa’s voice was thick from his crying and his sorrowful face furious when he turned around to face Sauron. Unknown to him, in that very moment he was like a almost exact, red-haired copy of his maternal grandfather Fëanor when he had found Finwë’s dead body in Formenos after that Morgoth had stolen the Silmarils._

_“IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT!! YOURS AND MORGOTH!! IF ONLY THE TWO OF YOU HADN’T FORCED US TO BOND AFTER THAT YOU’D TORTURED HER INTO BETRAYING THE HIDDEN CITY THIS NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!! DO YOU EVEN HAVE ANY IDEA ABOUT THE HORRIBLE GUILT SHE FELT OVER HER BETRAYAL?!”_

_Rûsa gasped deeply for breath, feeling like he would choke in his own anger and grief over Maeglin’s death._

_“You have no right to act like you are better, to label others as worthless…use us as nothing else than items for your own amusement…”_

_Sauron did not react at all on Rûsa’s outburst, instead he simply kicked up the iron mask from the stony ground at his feet. Out of life-long survival instincts, Rûsa caught the iron mask in his left hand before it hit his face._

_“You are a bringer of death, Rûsa. That is your fate as a War Leader of Morgoth. No matter what you do, people around you will always end up dead thanks to you. Now, continue to live that miserable life of yours with the added knowledge that you indirectly killed her by letting her leave Angband.”_

_Ignoring Rûsa’s pitiful whine and new crying at the uncaring words, Sauron turned around to leave._

_“May both you and the Dark Lord one day be defeated when you least expect it as the two monsters you both are!” screamed Rûsa in grief as Sauron left him, the scream echoing against the cliffs. He knew that the army from Angband would leave soon, once there was nothing else than a smoking ruin left of what had been the white city of Gondolin the very same morning. He had to be fast, if he did not want to leave Maeglin’s broken body out here in the open to become food for the ravens that soon would arrive._

_“I am so sorry…I am so horribly sorry…I did not mean to cause this to you…I did not mean to chase you into death…I am so sorry…” Rûsa wept uncontrollably in despair as he tried to clean off the blood from Maeglin’s pale face, now pale as snow in death. Closing her eyes and placing his iron mask over her face, Rûsa gathered his dark red hair in a hand, then cut off the hair with his sword between the shoulders and shoulder blades to place the hair in Maeglin’s hands as a grave offering before he covered the bloody body with his cloak. Then, he started to built a very simple cairn with the large stones found everywhere around the place. It was not much of a tomb, but it was far more than what the other killed Elves in Gondolin would be given before their beloved city was burned down to the ground. Once the cairn was built, Rûsa stuck down one of his swords into the cairn as a grave mark and knelt to pray._

_“Please…let her finally be free from her grief over the betrayal of the Hidden City…”_

_He did not know who he was praying to, or even why he bothered to pray to any higher power when his earlier prayers never had been answered. But in this very moment, Rûsa desperately felt the need of praying for Maeglin’s sake._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“…Rûsa! Rûsa!”

The commanding voice of his grandfather made Rûsa return to the present. Looking around in confusion, he found himself being almost face to face with his mother.

“You spaced out, sweetheart. And you are even crying…did you have a unpleasant flashback?”

Rûsa had not even noticed that he was crying, yet now it was clear for everyone present in the dinning room that he must have been a very horrible memory to make him even start to cry.

“Gondolin…ammë…”

Maedhros hugged her son, hoping to comfort him from the bad memory. Because of their set rule to never ask Rûsa about his past and letting him tell them of something when he felt ready, it could go very long time between every time Rûsa might reveal something of his first life in Angband.

“ _The two of you are_ **_WHAT!?!_** ”

Suddenly Curufin’s voice was heard from the living room, causing nearly everyone to jump in surprise at the unexpected yell. Then the faint sound of something heavy falling to the floor.

“ _Goodness, I think this is the second time I have ever has seen my husband faint, since that was pretty much his reaction at hearing that we had continued the family tradition of getting a boy and no sight of the girl I once overheard him pray for…_ ” they heard Curufin’s wife Astarë remarked, shock evident in her tone nonetheless, from the living room. Fëanor and Nerdanel gave each other a very sceptical look at hearing their law-daughter’s words about their fourth son’s odd behaviour.   

“ _Well, that is a far nicer reaction than how my parents and two brothers reacted when I told them about our relationship._ ” Narvi’s calm voice was heard from the living room as well, quickly followed by Celebrimbor:  

“ _I told you that he would react like that at hearing that we actually were married in secret back in the Second Age, Narvi!_”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Tirion, something rather different was happening.

“Really, Glorfindel…you, one of Arda’s most famous and best warriors, having gotten so unused to Maeglin’s rather aggressive dance style that you end up knocking both of you to the floor when you would just spin around as part of a dance step…” commented Ecthelion in pure disbelief where he sat on a marble bench beside Glorfindel, who currently was busy in holding a wet rag against the bump on his head that Maeglin has given him out of pure irritation that he could not follow the dance steps.

“Not my fault…” whined Glorfindel, still in shock over how hard Maeglin could hit with her fist. To soothe Maeglin’s temper, Rog had offered to take Glorfindel’s place and was now sweeping over the dance floor with Maeglin in an elegance that could not be imagined from a heavily built Elf as he otherwise indicated.

“Tell me again why this dance would be seen as immoral by pious Vanyarin Elves, Rog, just because of that it is a dance for unwed Avari Elves to show up themselves for possible life-partners.” requested Maeglin as she made a front boleo in the tango-styled dance that they currently was training on. Rog was helping Maeglin in the dance steps where she needed a partner.

“Either because of the unusually… _revealing_   clothes that both you girls and boys will wear during this dance, or just the fact that it is a dance to catch a possible life-partner’s attention,” answered Rog as he focused on Maeglin’s face, making a clear point of not allowing himself to be distracted by her clothes unlike poor Glorfindel earlier. Maeglin was currently wearing a very form-fitted, short-sleeved top, a similarly form-fitted hip belt and a full-length skirt in cobalt blue-coloured fabric richly decorated with beads, sequins, crystals and embroidery in a crimson red colour.

“Hmf. As if they have any right to complain about the dress styles that showed up among the Avari Elves after the Valar had brought the first Elves to Aman,” snorted Maeglin as she nearly bent down to the floor with her head while Rog held a steady hold on her lower back so she would not lose balance.

“Eh…Maeglin, not to sound rude now, but it is actually nice to see you in other colours outside the black clothing you used to wear back in the First Age,” called Ecthelion from the bench. In return, Maeglin flashed him such a unexpected smile that Ecthelion blushed a really deep red colour on his cheeks.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in Formenos, the whole House of Fëanor had now entered the living room.

“Let me get this straight to ensure that your Atar heard it right before he fainted, Telpërinquar Curufinwion: You, and Narvi here, were wed in secret back in the Second Age a couple of years after you had finished the Doors of Durin?” asked Fëanor in a stern voice while his eyes switched between his oldest grandson and the Dwarrowdam in question. On a couch behind him, Astarë used a paper-fan to try and get Curufin to wake up. It was a bit of an awkward silence, before Celebeimbor finally trusted himself to answer:

“Yes, Haru.”

A plain and simple answer, straight to the point. By now, Curufin had awoken on the couch and turned his head to see on his own.

“Is it possible to request the whole story about your relationship? Like how it started and such?”

To everyone’s surprise, Celebrimbor blushed heavly while looking away from his Dwarf wife and Narvi looked rather uncomfortable while mirroring her Elven husband’s action of not looking on him.

“I will say it in three words only: _human slave traders_.”   

Rûsa twitched as reaction on what his cousin just said, immediately having a quick flashback of Angband and his life back there. Slave traders had been part of everyday life there, often being the Orcs who kidnapped people outside Angband and brought them to a life in slavery.

“I see.”

Sensing that it would be a bad idea to ask anymore, no one pressured the other questions that they might have wanted to ask the unlikely couple.

“I will help Rûsa with his evening bath,” whispered Caranthir to Maedhros, quickly grabbing Rûsa around his waist before lifting him up and carried his younger nephew away under one arm before Rûsa could protest that he actually would have said bath tomorrow evening.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“Unnnnncle Moryo…my evening bath is only every second day, not everyday…” complained Rûsa once they were outside the living room as he tried to get out from Caranthir’s hold. With a happy bark at hearing her owner’s voice, Snowflake hurried up to them from the kitchen.

“Nope, Snowflake. No bath with Rûsa for you today, a wet Elfling and a wet dog is not a good mix indoors, especially not in the evening before bedtime.”

Caranthir easily ducked Snowflake without dropping his nephew on the way upstairs to the sleeping chambers. It was in a such movement, that Rûsa noticed the smug smile on Caranthir’s lips, as if he mentally was very pleased over something. Over the 12 years that had passed since his rebirth, Rûsa had learnt that seeing that smile on Caranthir’s lips would mean some sort of long-awaited victory over his siblings in some way. And indeed, Caranthir laughed a very self-satisfied laughter that sent shivers along Rûsa’s spine for some reason when he was put down on the bed in his own bed chamber.

“Tyelpë could not have done a better choice of wife, if you ask me. What a perfect indirect revenge, now Curvo and Tyelko can’t tease me about my short marriage to Haleth back in the First Age anymore! Out of all my siblings, those two were the only ones who never seemed to understand what I really saw in her…” Caranthir said in an almost sing-along kind of voice, before leaving for his own bed chamber. Once he had left, Snowflake was quick to push up the door with her front paw and then jump up in bed beside Rûsa. She was still small enough to not take up too much space in bed yet, so it would take a couple of more years before she was too big to share the bed with her owner.

“I honestly don’t know what is the most creepy thing right now…uncle Moryo’s very unusual gloat, ammë’s attempts to keep her suitors away by wearing the jewelry she is given by her mysterious admirer, or the fact that my cousin turns out to be married to a Dwarrowdam...” Rûsa muttered for himself in a mix of disbelief and half-hidden shuddering while he patted Snowflake’s head in an absentminded movement. His family might still be a little crazy by Elvish standards, but he had seen far worse in Angband. In contrast to that, the House of Fëanor was and had actually been surprisingly sane even back at the Darkening of Valinor.


	15. Scents of memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa spends time with his family and gets a unusual idea

Over the next following days, things went rather unusual in Formenos. Not just because of the news over Celebrimbor’s marriage to Narvi that only his family knew so far, but also because of many of the local blacksmiths wished to meet with the Dwarves and exchange knowledge in the art of forging with them. Informal rules made such meetings time-limited, so that the guest in question would not intrude on others.

“Rûsa? Is something wrong? You have not touched your breakfast yet,” asked Maedhros when she saw that her son still made no movement of eating the breakfast that Fëanor had cooked. Looking up at his mother, Rûsa revealed that his black eyes were oddly empty. Nearly everyone else at the table stopped to eat as well when they saw it.

“Is it one of _those_ days? When you can’t feel any hunger despite knowing that you should eat?”

Rûsa could only nod weakly as answer, as if he was ashamed of himself. These days when he did not feel like eating as a result of his past life in Angband with starvation as a constant companion was hard for everyone in the family. Even if it were often long intervals between those days, it still was very painful for the whole family every time one such day arrived.

“Try to drink some of the milk so you get some form of nourishment in you this early in the morning at least. Maybe a spoonful of theliquid honey too,” persuaded Nerdanel gently, pushing forwards a cup of warm milk towards Rûsa from her place at the table. Even if he only was able to drink two mouthfuls of the milk before he felt full and was unable to drink more in fear that he would only feel sick as reaction, it was better than him not eating or drinking anything at all.

“If you don’t feel hungry, then please try to not run around too much today. It would not be good if you end up collapsing in the middle of playing because of fatigue caused by that you have not eaten anything today,” suggested Fëanor, making careful movements to not make it look like he was tempting Rûsa into eating when he had no wish to eat. 

“Yes, Haru.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As promised at the breakfast, Rûsa tried to not waste too much energy the moment he left the house. So he headed towards his favourite high spot with the oak tree at the market yard, bringing one of his favourite books along to read while sitting up on one of the branches.

“I think I was…yes, here is where I stopped last time. Ha, ha, I can really understand why ammë and uncle Káno lamented that they had missed a chance to help lord Elrond and lady Celebrian in babysitting their children…”

It was a simple book of different small tales about small and often rather dramatic adventures that Elrond’s twin sons Elladan and Elrohir had found themselves into during various times of their lives. Rûsa’s own favourites was the tales of Elrond’s foster-son Estel, king Aragorn II Elessar of Gondor, getting involved as well with his Elvish foster-brothers into their different adventures and pranks. That the book had several illustrations that would often show the end result of the adventures made it even more funnier and easier for Rûsa to understand what was going on.

“Ha, ha, ha! Poor Lindir, it can’t have been easy to babysit Estel while Thorin Oakenshield and his Company was visiting!!”

Rûsa laughed so hard that he nearly fell off the branch. Lucky, he caught himself in time to not fall off, but the book ended up falling straight down on Dis who just passed by.

“I did not know that it can rain books from trees here in the Undying Lands,” she commented, looking up to see where the book had came from.

“Ah! Sorry, lady Dis! That is my book, I dropped it when I had to avoid falling off…”

Mentally, Rûsa had a very strong feeling that this likely was not going to be one of his better days.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Maeglin was training on the solo parts from the tango-styled dance she and Rog had been practicing the evening before, inside one the rooms meant for weapon training in the royal palace of Tirion. It was a free choice to make the dance together with other unwed Avari Elves in a group, on your own or simply not at all during the Flower of Love festival.

“Even if I am not one of the dancers this year, it can still be fun to train in the dance.”

For all of her personality as a tomboy, Maeglin still enjoyed some female hobbies with her female relatives. As she spun around, Maeglin lost her balance for a moment and had to catch herself before falling down on the floor. In the same movement, she also knocked down a couple of different spears on the wall beside her.

_Crash!!_

“Oh my, I hope that nobody heard that or I will get a scolding from great-grandmother Indis for dancing in a room that is not really meant for dance!” groaned Maeglin at seeing the mess she had created. Picking up the spears, she tried to place them in a neat order as they should have stood before she had made them fall down. When she picked up one, Maeglin saw that it was something different about the spear. It consisted of a wooden pole with a curved single-edged blade on the end, without any doubt a weapon meant for Avari women to use in defending themselves in battle.

“A naginta? What is it doing here among Noldorin weapons?”

Looking for the mark of the blacksmith who had made the naginta, Maeglin quickly found her father Eöl’s familiar sign at the end of the wooden pole and realized that it must have been a gift to her mother Aredhel at some point. Maeglin could perfectly imagine Indis and her pious court ladies' horrified reaction at her mother being given a weapon as a gift, Anaire likely would not care so much as Aredhel had been somewhat of a rebellious princess from the very start and knew that it was simply impossible to make a free-spirited woman like Aredhel into a quiet and proper lady.

“At touching it, something about it seems so familiar…not because of that it is a weapon that Ada taught me to use when we lived in Nan Elmoth, but something else…”

It was then as she remembered, the very last time that she ever had touched the closest thing to a naginta that could be found in Angband.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Rûsa had taken her out from his private chamber for a while, up to a hidden training place where he sometimes trained alone with his weapons. It had not been easy to fight against him despite that she had nearly been fully recovered from Sauron’s torture, and she did not doubt that he had to hold back much of his_ _physical strength in order to not harm her._

_“You fight well. And it is a good thing that Sauron did not find out about that, or you would…”_

_Suddenly there was a loud sound behind them, making both of them freeze in a movement, and then a growing heat in the already dry air._

_“Oh, great. One of the Balrogs. If I am found out training you in the act of using a weapon, we both will be punished, as female slaves are not allowed to even touch a weapon and I hold no wish of any of us two getting injured in some way…” was all Rûsa explained in great hurry while he dropped his own bastardized naginta to the ground and tied a rope around Maeglin’s waist, ignoring her small gasp over how tight it was._

_“Ow! Will it work?” wondered Maeglin in understandable scepticism. Rûsa tossed the rope around a good rock._

_“This is not the first time I have needed to escape quickly like this. Ok,_ _Lómiel, on three: One. Two…”_

_But the fear of being so close to a Balrog, especially with remembering the tale of how her great-uncle Fëanor and uncle Fingon had been killed by one in battle, caused Maeglin to jump over the cliff already on “Two”, causing her to pull the surprised Rûsa along in the same movement._

_“Whoa!”_

_Lucky, the rope held despite the united weight from both of them, making them stop about half-way up the cliff._

_“Warn me next time, ok? While I would not mind dying by the hands of a woman, getting pulled like that is not very pleasant.”_

_While Rûsa whispered this to Maeglin, Gothmog arrived to the hidden training place. Looking around, he felt the smells of sweat that normally revealed training, but as Maeglin was wearing some of Rûsa’s clothes at the moment, her own body scent was partly hidden by his. After hearing Gothmog leaving, Rûsa let out a deep breath and slowly started to lower them to the ground below._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maeglin took a deep breath, letting the memory fall away from her mind. As always during that short month together, Rûsa had been far more worried about her than himself. He was born and raised in Angband, used to the harsh lifestyle of a slave and knew how to survive there while she had came from the outside world.

“That was just one or two days before he covered my escape…”

She still remembered how terrified she had been during the whole journey back to Gondolin, the ever present fear of being recaptured and what possible punishment she would be given on Morgoth’s order if she was brought back to Angband, the attempts to keep on walking just a few more steps forwards despite that she had been so exhausted that she barely could move, and how she had tried her best to survive on what little food Rûsa had managed to hide away for her as food on the travel back to Gondolin.

“One of the most horrible periods in my life. Where I had to face myself in a way I never had done before. Of course, I remembered what my parents had taught me about survival in the wild, but to live like that while fearing to be captured by the Orcs…”

The memory of the three months in Angband, along with the deaths of her parents and the Fall of Gondolin, were something that never would truly leave Maeglin. But in her heart and very soul, she hoped deeply that it would not keep haunting her life forever.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in Formenos, Celebrimbor and Narvi had joined up with Rûsa and Dis under the oak tree. It was just small talk about a lot of different things that they have seen in their lives, about their families and cultures.

“King Thranduil can’t have been too amused over that stunt, I mean, escaping in the wine barrels? Of course, we Dwarves are short in statue and would likely be able to fit into barrels if they are enough large and wide, but still…” said Narvi in faint disbelief when Dis told them what she knew about Thorin and Company’s escape from the Mirkwood palace. Dis herself wore a similar look of disbelief, as if she still could not really believe that story even after hearing it from the surviving Dwarves in the Company. It was then, just as Dis finished the last braid she had managed to catch Rûsa’s thick hair into, that Rûsa noticed a different scent in the air. It was faint, and seemed to come from his cousin. Or rather, the bracelets of gold that Celebrimbor was wearing.

“Cousin, what is that scent coming from your bracelets?”

Seeing what Rûsa meant, Celebrimbor answered with a small smile:

“Ah, those? Because of that we could not exactly say in the open that we was married back in the Second Age, Narvi and I picked up the small habit of creating a new kind of jewelry. The scent in my bracelets is that of peppermint oil, that we inset in specially-made thin small tubes that is placed as the centre of the jewelry. Our first sets of this type of jewelry were rings, but I won’t do rings anymore, not after how the Rings of Power was affected by _Him_ …”

Celebrimbor went quiet, not wanting to remember Sauron. Lucky, in just that moment Maedhros passed by, looking rather pleased over something. Which, on a closer look, revealed itself to be a simple circlet of coppar, decorated with only seven small emeralds.

“New gift from _that guy_ , aunt?”  

“The post carriage from Tirion arrived less than a hour ago. The staff at the post office here has learned to quickly send a errand boy with the chest to me the moment they find it among the letter sacks. There is a small package of honey sticks for Rûsa as well inside the chest.” Maedhros smiled with such a honest smile that there was no doubt about how people could get so charmed by her. And why men seemed to fall so hard for her as well. As he lowered his left hand into the wooden chest after one of the mentioned honey sticks and felt the scent of peppermint oil from Celebrimbor’s bracelets again, Rûsa suddenly got a idea. It was very strange and would most likely fail just because of how unlikely it sounded, but he wanted to test it at least.

“Ammë, what are your favourite scents?” asked Rûsa while counting the honey sticks, planning to save them for later as there was no use in him even trying to eat during a day like this when he felt no hunger.

“My favourite scents? Well…I have always enjoyed the smell of lavender because it often has helped me to relax after a long day of work, and after being saved from Thangorodrim, chamomile because the tea helped me to sleep reasonable peacefully during my recovery and pear blossoms because a sliced piece of pear was the first solid food that my brothers dared to give me during my recovery. Before that, the healers feared that my stomach might not be able to take it and that solid food risked making me sick.”

Maedhros shuddered at the unpleasant memory of how she had reacted on the chicken broth she had gotten as a first meal after being saved. The joy of finally being given something to eat, then the horrible feeling of despair when she had not been able to keep the chicken broth down when it turned out to be far too strong for her unaccustomed stomach and unspoken terror that she would be punished for having vomited up the food that she had been given.

“I remember hearing Atar and uncle Moryo talk about it later that evening. How the simple, child-like joy of just being given food was so clear on your face…”

“You really have no idea how valuable one single additional share of food could be in Angband, cousin… ammë, I need to ask Haru about something and borrow the chest for a couple of moments. Tyelpë, Narvi, can the two of you draw up a basic sketch on how you make that scent-jewelry? Excuse me, everyone!”

And with that single warning, Rûsa hurried away with the wooden chest in his arms before Maedhros could stop him.

“Hey, Russafinwë! What happened with not wasting your energy today?!” called Maedhros in a scolding voice after her son as he vanished around a corner. 

“He is already becoming a bit cheeky despite his young age, hasn’t he?” wondered Dis, knowing a little how boys could be since she was the mother of two sons herself. Maedhros laughed softly at the unknown irony in the royal Dwarrowdam’s words.

“Whatever it is that he is planning, it better be something good,” muttered Narvi as she and Celebrimbor went to fix the sketches Rûsa had requested of them.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa knew that Fëanor would be in his old lab today, so he hurried there. While Fëanor had promised to not create anything new that might lead to a different set of Silmarils, it did not mean that his lab stayed locked. 

“Haru? Haru, I have a idea that you might like to help with…”  

_BOOM!!_

An unexpected cloud of smoke greeted Rûsa before he could finish his words. Coughing and a shadow among the white smoke, revealed where Fëanor, dressed in his protective clothes along with a special helmet to protect his eyes and thick leather gloves for his hands, was at the table.            

“Nope, that does not fix well…well, what was you just about to tell me when you entered, Rûsa?” asked Fëanor calmly as he opened a window to get out the smoke from the lab. Rûsa was more than a little puzzled over how easy his maternal grandfather could remain so calm after just nearly creating a miniature explosion. Then again, most people did say that he still was a little mad somewhere in that great mind of his…

“A few minutes ago, I got a idea about how to maybe find out who ammë’s mysterious admirer is. For starters, Haru, can you help me make an perfume oil that consists of lavender, chamomile and pear blossoms?”

While Fëanor found the request from his younger grandson very odd, he had done a couple of home-made perfume oils for Nerdanel and Maedhros back in the Years of the Trees, so he was not unfamiliar with such a task even if it normally was not something he made.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on, who has NOT imagined Fëanor mixing things that responds odd? He is a genius after all XD


	16. Making plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finwë starts wondering about Rûsa

Thanks to it being summer outside and many fresh flowers could be found pretty much the moment you entered outside the front door, it did not take long for Fëanor to soon having created an perfume oil with the mixed scent of lavender, chamomile and pear blossoms that he and Rûsa had found in the garden. It was a pleasant and sweet scent, one that fit perfectly with what Rûsa planned to use it for.

“This perfume oil will be good to attempt catching ammë’s secret admirer with…now, I only need to make ammë used to the scent so she knows right away who it must be…”

Even with the understandable huge risk of failure, Rûsa still wanted to test his idea to find out his mother’s longest-known secret admirer.

“Rûsa, could you please…?!”

Suddenly the gentle summer heat and lack of food at breakfast along with all his running earlier, caught up with Rûsa and he collapsed.

“Crazy kid! You should have stayed inside today so we could keep a eye on you when we knows that you have not eaten anything! Why can’t you learn…?” growled Fëanor in frustration, cooling off Rûsa’s face with waving one of his leather gloves in front of him. Rûsa would have loved to answer had he just not been so dizzy at the moment.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Nerdanel was busy in baking bread when her husband brought in Rûsa, carrying him in his arms. Just like Fëanor, she felt a hint of oncoming headache when she heard what their younger grandson had been up to. After raising seven children of their own, six of the boys, both was very familiar with how reckless young Elflings could be at times.   

“Not. A. Word,” warned Nerdanel in clear disappointment to Rûsa when he made a attempt to say something, dropping a rag in a bowl of cold water and carefully cooled down his warm face with it. Rûsa himself seemed to be agreeing with her, from the look on his face.

“Now, what happened to make you collapse this early in the day when it is not very hot outside yet?”

“I was inside the lab with Haru because I needed his help in fixing something for ammë, grandmother.”

Nerdanel gave him a sceptical look, before Fëanor showed her three small glass bottles with the perfume oil that Rûsa had requested earlier.

“You really enjoy spoiling your mother with different kinds of small gifts, aren’t you, cutie?” she said with a knowing look.

“I am only trying to make up for lost time from the First Age!” protested Rûsa with a blush that really was not a result of being too warm from the summer heat.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In a small valley that was very similar to their former home in Imladris, Elrond was enjoying being host for some of the members in the Wood clan because of that they had sent a request to exchange knowledge in medicine and healing with him. And with Elrond’s reputation as a great Master Healer, it was perhaps only natural that this would happen sooner or later.

“What kind of herb-mix are this?” asked Elrond in surprise when he opened a small bag he had not checked before and found a notable mix of dried, powdered herbs inside. He wasn’t too sure what to think of the unusual smell as well. Taurion shared a quick look with one of the other warriors to check if it was all right, before he made a request for some hot water. Once the boiling water had been brought in a tea pot, Taurion showed that the herbal mix was meant to be used as tea. But not any sort of tea.

“It is made specially for the youngsters among the Avari clans, meant to help them keep control over their bodies and sexual reactions between the years of 50, when they reach their adult height, and 100 years when they come of age. While we normally can trust them to not do anything foolish, it is still a risk that someone loses control over themselves thanks to a uncontrollable crush on another and ends up making themselves married at a far too young age. It is better to not take any risks at all in that manner. One spoonful of this herbal mix into boiling water every morning and it won’t be any risk to a too early marriage.”

Elrond nodded, secretly agreeing to what Taurion explained about the tea and what it did for both genders. Mentally, he had a minor wish that he had known the recipe for this tea earlier, given how some of Elros’ descendants that he had fostered before Aragorn, had behaved once they had left Imladris and found themselves around human ladies. From what he knew, at least one of them had ended knocking up their chosen bride-to-be a little too early before the marriage. In that area, he had been rather grateful that Aragorn’s beloved was his own daughter Arwen, given at how much he had not liked the match at first.  

“Whatever other Elves might think about our different rites and rituals in social life, do they really a right to say something when they have their own? Really, what is wrong with blessing a newborn infant with incense against evil spirits, when those were a reality back in Middle-earth? Shall some of our rituals for surviving have to vanish just because we now live in a land free from Dark Lords?”

It was Lianna, the chef shaman in the Wood clan, who had spoken. She was busy in lighting some incense to get the insects away from the gathered people in the garden.  

“A very fair point, milady, and unfortunately one of the worse parts in culture crashes between the different people here in Aman,” sighed Celebrian, remembering her own difficulties to adapt to the Noldorin culture here in Aman at arriving there in Third Age 2510, even with the help of her kind grandparents and uncle Finrod. With a Sindar father along with being born and raised in Eregion, it was perhaps no surprise that some of Celebrian’s manners was more of the Sindar than the Noldor.

“Really, just because one culture is different from the one you are born to, should not be a reason to mistrust between the different Elven peoples…oi!”  

Suddenly a couple of Taurion’s many grandchildren jumped on him, making the Wood clan chieftain fight for balance on one leg while the Elflings hung from his arms and torso.

“I am not a tree to climb, you little brats…!” Taurion chuckled in a friendly manner, then made a face in slight pain as one red-haired little granddaughter pulled on his dark red hair caught in several braids. He loved his many children and grandchildren, but at times Taurion privately wondered for himself why several of his children seemed to have gotten their own children almost at the same time. Then again, given how close they were despite that only his two daughters with Atara, the two eldest of his seventeen children, shared the same mother, it was perhaps not so strange after all.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_It had been almost straight after that she had entered the Halls of Mandos, still feeling the horrible pain when her life had been ended on the cliffs. She was weeping like to no end, as if all energy had been lost and crying was the only thing she could do._

_“Ssssh. There, there, child…you are safe now. Easy now, your fëa is still feeling the pain from your hröa…” whispered Námo tenderly as he lifted her up in his hands, like a father trying to soothe a crying child. Carrying Maeglin to the chamber meant for healing the Elves who had been enslaved in Angband, he placed her in a pool with turquoise-green healing water. Maeglin gasped in pain when the water touched her broken legs, the slave brand on her back and the place where her neck had been broken in her suicide, then closed her eyes as she felt how the pain slowly vanished, her fëa carefully healing from the injuries that had ended her life._

_“Bring her parents here. Do not let it be known that she is here yet, or her uncle will only cause her_ _yet more torment in the form of harsh, angry words over her involuntary betrayal of his Hidden City.”_

_The grey-robed Maia nodded and left, leaving another Maia to keep a eye on Maeglin until that her parents were brought there, as Námo himself needed to greet the other fëar coming into his Halls._

_“Lómiel? No…please…please, no…not our poor child…”_

_That voice…_

_“Amil…?”_

_Arms embracing her, a glimpse of white clothing in sharp contrast to black hair,_ _a long-lost scent of forest and horse mixing together. Another hand, larger than the hands of the other, rough and with the_ _blisters of a blacksmith, were placed on her head as if the owner was hesitant to touch her._

_“A-ada…”_

_“Don’t speak yet, Maeglin. Your pain in the neck is too raw to allow the movements of speech. Trust me, I know too well how that sort of pain works. You are no willing traitor, you are our daughter. Ours, Maeglin Lómiel, our twilight daughter.”_

_With a new wail at Eöl’s unexpectedly kind words, Maeglin threw herself into her parents’ arms. Right now, in the grief of knowing that she forever would be marked as a traitor of Gondolin when it was revealed that she was the one who had betrayed the Hidden City, all she wanted was her parents. Both of them, no matter of how things had been between them the last time all three had still been alive._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Tirion, things were rather normal for a summer day. But one thing that stood out, was that unlike normally, Finwë had gathered those in his family who had the strongest gift of osanwë, mindspeaking, for a secret meeting on his private balcony. It was Galadriel, Finrod and, surprisingly enough, Argon as his gift of osanwë had still been very undeveloped because of his youth at his death.

“With the wisdom you all have, I am sure that you might be able to guess why I have summoned you here,” the High King said, without looking over his shoulder from where he was looking over the city. Galadriel, who was slowly walking around, responded:

“It is about young Russafinwë, Maitimo’s son, correct?”

“Yes. The more we see of him on the few times that we have met my eldest son’s family since the poisoning two years ago, the more I get the feeling that… _he is hiding something_. When I look into his black eyes after that he takes off that eye-veil he uses to protect his eyes from the sunlight, they…are not those of an innocent child who has never known violence. It is a feeling of watching a partly-tamed beast, waiting on the right moment to show his fangs once more. I do not think Russafinwë means any sort of harm, as we all has seen how protective he of his mother Nelyafinwë and her family, but I would still prefer to keep a watchful eye on him.”

Finwë’s unspoken order to his three present grandchildren was clear. That they would try and find out Rûsa’s true mind, if he possibly was a inside enemy that the Dark Lords had secretly cursed the House of Fëanor with. Given how things had been for them thanks to Morgoth, such a dark deed from the shadow might not be totally wrong even if The One had freed Fëanor and his children from the Oath.   

“As you wish, Haru.”

On the other hand, both Galadriel and Argon noted how uncomfortable Finrod seemed to be, even as he hid it well from Finwë. The reason was that the firstborn of Finarfin remembered very well the time he had seen Rûsa after being defeated by Sauron in the song duel and had serious doubts that Maedhros would want her son to be revealed as the feared Warg Rider without her control in such a reveal.

“As much as I do not want to disobey Haru’s order, I better send a small warning to Nelyo about this…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in Formenos, Celebrimbor did just check up with Rûsa on what kind of jewelry he and Narvi would create with the perfume oil Feanor had made.

“I think that bracelets of silver would fit best. Not only is it a hint to the Fëanorian eight-rayed star, but bracelets are enough common as jewelry for a _ner_ that no one would question about it if it is a blacksmith who wear them.”

Rûsa nodded in agreement to his older cousin’s words, being not allowed to leave his bed yet because of his earlier collapse in Feanor’s lab.

“Yeah. Please put them in the wooden chest that ammë always get her gifts in and place it in the post carriage, when you are finished. That way, her secret admirer can get a small surprise of his own when the wooden chest comes back to Tirion.”

“I will, don’t you worry about it.”

Celebrimbor ruffled his hair, much to Rûsa’s annoyance because the movement messed up his hair again and the braids that Dis had made earlier.

“Hey! Stop that, you know how impossible my hair can be at times to keep in a neat manner!”

Laughing friendly, Celebrimbor left Rûsa’s sleeping chamber to fix the silver bracelets with Narvi, taking one bottle of perfume oil with him to get the oil inside the bracelets.

“I really hope that this plan will work, and that ammë can finally get a answer on who her secret admirer actually is…” Rûsa said half aloud to himself, moving over to give some room for Snowflake in the bed.


	17. Journey to the sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The members in the House of Finwë are invited to a special event by Olwë

 Year 25 of the Fourth Age, late summer in Formenos. Rûsa was currently focusing on the final details in a large painting he was doing of the largest guard tower in Formenos. It was not a prank as one might think, rather, it was part of a simple little painting contest between all the Elflings who was living in the city. The Elflings was divided into different teams and had different historical motifs to paint in the places assigned to them. Much to Rûsa's private joy, his team had gotten the task of painting the scene of Luthien singing Morgoth to sleep so she and Beren could take one of the Silmarils from his iron crown. Using his old drawing of Luthien as a basic for how the painting would look like, Rûsa showed that he was a natural leader for his team.  

“Can I get some more grey colour for the eyes I am making, please?”

“Here, Rûsa.”

A paint bucket with grey colour was quickly given to him by another Elfling in the team. The time-up were soon to its end and they had to get finished before that.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the main square, Maedhros was sitting at a table and writing a letter to one of her old childhood friends in Tirion when a voice called on her:

“Princess! Princess Maitimo!”

It was an young errand boy from the post office, carrying on a very familiar wooden chest. Smiling gently at the younger Elf, Maedhros put down her quill so she could take the wooden chest.

“Thank you for bringing this to me, young one.”

Giving him a kiss on the forehead as a extra thank you, the young errand boy blushed so hard that he could have matched a red beet and seemed to be so much with his head among the clouds by the kiss that he walked right into a wooden pole by mistake.

“Ah!”

The few onlookers made a point of politely looking away; it was not unheard in Formenos that many youngsters had a crush on Maedhros and getting a simple kiss from her were seen as the highest price one of them could get. Chucking inwardly with a fond smile at the unfortunate youth as he hurried away in embarrassment, Maedhros took up the small key to open the wooden chest to see what kind of gift her secret admirer had given her.

“Oh?”

It was a simple face mask of coppar, with the eight-rayed Star of Fëanor made of small white diamonds on the forehead and a ring of small emeralds on each cheek on the mask.

“ _A face mask? Wait…is that a hidden message that he actually will be a guest on the masquerade ball that king Olwë will hold in Alqualondë to celebrate the birth of his oldest son’s first grandchild?!_ ” Maedhros thought. Realizing that it could be her chance to actually find out who her long-time admirer was, Maedhros placed the face mask back into the wooden chest and took it in her arms to find her family. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, a bugle was heard from the main guard tower, signalling an end to the painting contest.

“Just in time. Come on, move away the paint buckets and wooden stands so the adults can take a look on the painting!”

Moving away everything so it was a clear view of the painting with Luthien and Morgoth, Rûsa took a grilled fish that he was offered by Maglor's wife Rainiel, as she had prepared some snacks for his team in case they got hungry after all the painting.

“I have not seen what the other teams have painted, but I think yours are an very good one,” Rainiel smiled as she handed out more pieces of grilled fish to the Elflings. Rûsa nodded, taking a new bite of his own fish piece. At the same time, Fëanor arrived to see the painting along with some other chosen judges.

“Greetings, everyone. Now, what have you young ones done here with your painting?”  

There would be no prize-winning for the paintings, but the joy of having created the paintings would be enough of a prize. Suddenly a guard called to Fëanor from the top of the guard tower:

“Milord Fëanáro! Prince Ñolofinwë is arriving!”

Understanding that Fingolfin must have been sent by Finwë to get the House of Fëanor to join up with the rest of the Noldorin royal family on the way to Alqualondë, Fëanor nodded to Rainiel.

“Time to leave for Alqualondë. Come on, Rûsa.”

“What…ah!” protested Rûsa when his maternal grandfather gently dragged him along to met up with the rest of the family.

 ~X~X~X~X~X~X

Fingolfin was very pleased to se that his older half-brother and his family were almost ready to leave Formenos. Nodding to each other in a civil manner, it was the only greeting between them as the two older sons of Finwë allowed. Not the right time for small talk, they had a royal court to catch up with before the day was finished. Narvi, who had spent the last four months in Formenos with Celebrimbor, would also depart today. 

“I would love to come along to masquerade ball, but I am needed back in the Halls of the Forefathers. Has to choose a good spot for where the new Doors of Durin will be. Besides, it is better to not reawaken bad blood between the Eldar and the Children of Aulë again among so many Elves from Doriath there. See you in six weeks time for starting on the new Doors, honey.” said Narvi and kissed Celebrimbor a final good-bye from her pony before she rode off. Judging from the longing look in his eyes, Celebrimbor would have wanted to follow her.

“Six weeks will pass quickly, Tyelpë. You will see her soon enough again before you knows it.”  

Astarë smiled at her son, which earned her a faint smile in return.

“All right. Everyone done? Then, lets go!”

Taking the lead, Fëanor followed after Fingolfin towards the front gate of Formenos.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At same time, the Wood and Metal clans were heading towards Alqualondë as well. Not because of the masquerade ball, but because both clans has gotten requests of different kinds of face masks from those who had been invited to said masquerade ball. After all, wooden masks and metal face masks were made to not look alike to one other at all.

“Hello there, Sûlcû! Your clan having requests of face masks as well?” called Taurion at seeing his fellow Clan Leader. The brown-haired Elf nodded in answer as a sign on that he had heard Taurion’s greeting. Like most of his clan members, Sûlcû was not much for talking and in general favoured to add in a sarcastic remark or two to someone elsewhen least expected.

“Hello there, Mirag. Expecting your fourth one?” asked Atara with a knowing smile as she rode up to the other Avari woman. She got a nod in return, and Atara slowed down her horse so they could talk easier to each other side by side alongside the horse-drawn carriage that Mirag and some other pregnant She-Elves was sitting into. Unlike her silent husband, Mirag was more likely to talk with her friends.  

“Yes, this little one will be born just in time to the autumn equinox…”

To Taurion's surprise, Sûlcû actually left his heavy pregnant wife’s side and rode up beside him. There was a grave look on his face that Taurion knew meant trouble of some kind. The last time he had seen it, was only a few days before nearly the whole Metal clan had been killed or enslaved by Morgoth's army from Angband. The attack that only a very young Eöl and a few others had survived by pure luck thanks to not being in the camp when the attack came.  

“I would suggest that you keep a closer eye on your youngest son and his Noldorin lady mother from now on, Taurion. I do not know what it is, but something will try to harm them both in the unseen future. Why and when, I do not know, but one thing is for sure: the guilty Elf in question will be _a reddish-blonde female, likely not even of age from what I have seen_. And knowing how much pain that Fallen Vala and Fallen Maia caused Rûsa, I hold little doubt that this female will remind him about the Fallen Maia.”

Taurion shuddered in fear. No one among the six Avari clans ever mentioned Morgoth or Sauron by name, their deeds bringing up horrible memories for anyone who had been enslaved in Angband and thus was a taboo to mention their names. Instead they used code names that everyone in the clans knew, for they were taught that custom with their mother's milk from birth even if their young minds did not know.

“Thanks for the warning, my friend. I will pass it further to lady Maedhros and Rûsa.”    

Sûlcû’s visions of the future were not always very strong ones, his gift of foresight coming and going without any warning, but he had them enough to be known as a Giver of Warnings, ones that you had to take seriously so that you could try and avoid the dangers he had seen in a vision.

“Young Rûsa has suffered enough in his old life back in the First Age thanks to the two Dark Lords. There is no need for him to suffer again, not now when he finally is free from them.”

Taurion nodded. It was tightly-guarded secret among the Avari clans that Rûsa was the former Warg Rider, and there was no way that they could allow outsiders learn about it without Rûsa's own permission to reveal it.

“By the way, Taurion. Lady Maedhros will be a mother again by the time Rûsa's new body is 65 years old.”

“ _WHAT?!_ ”

The shock nearly caused Taurion to fall out of the saddle. The outburst from him caused some odd looks to be sent towards the two Clan Leaders, not that any of them noticed.

“That is in 50 years time! Have you seen who her husband will be?!”

“Really, Taurion, are you sure that the Clans should not establish the custom of having more than one wife, so protective of lady Maedhros as you are?” teased Sûlcû with a laugh, which earned him no less than two hits in the back of the head with a couple of apples tossed by Atara and Mirag.

“I am protective of her because of that she is the only one of my baseborn children’s mothers who was brave enough to be reborn despite knowing that our common son would be seen as a illegitimate and you know the reason for that and…and, besides all of that, it is because I want her to have a happy life despite how and where Rûsa was conceived in the First Age, not because of that I am in love with her…”

Taurion knew that he could trust Sûlcû to not talk further about this matter, and that he simply wanted to tease him a little.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_The day had came. The day when Maedhros would relinquishing her claim to being the first ruling High Queen of the Noldor and instead swearing her uncle Fingolfin fealty._

_“Sister…easy now, easy…try and calm down…” pleaded Maglor in worry, seeing how she was shaking in her whole body to the point of almost crying. The news about her_ _infertility had been a terrible blow against Maedhros' self-confidence. While she still had living heirs in her six brothers and nephew, the news that she never would be able to bear children had broken her. Since that morning, everything had gone very fast to bear out her orders about the ceremony where she would give up the crown to Fingolfin._

_“I-I could not s-sleep tonight…I was haunted by Atar's face in the darkness, I could h-hear him accusing me of giving up the birthright belonging to our f-family…a-and he said that…that I was no daughter of his anymore…”_

_She was handed a cup of chamomile tea by Caranthir, hoping that it would help her calm down. Behind her back, Celegorm fixed a new braid in her hair so it would not hang loose. At the bed, Amrod and Amras was polishing their sister's new sword together, just to give themselves something to do during the nervous wait for the ceremony to start. Huan gently touched the sling with Maedhros' right arm with his nose, the phantom pains in her uneven right shoulder and arm caused her to often need the sling so her shoulder could rest._

_“Sister, we are done.”_

_Curufin and Celebrimbor had arrived, her fourth brother holding the ceremonial crown in his hands. Made out of silver and shaped as a circlet, its only adornment was Finwë's heraldic device at the front._

_“Clever to not use anything that could be misread as a hint of either side of the family, Curvo…” said Maedhros faintly in a tired voice, her voice_ _hoarse due to the destroyed vocal cords._

_“Haru would not have wanted us to fight in this moment, and that is the least thing we can do in his memory right now.”_

_Carefully and slowly, as if he did not want to place the ceremonial crown on her head in the knowledge that it soon would be taken away from her during the ceremony, did Curufin place the crown on Maedhros' head._

_“I am so horrible sorry for this…but it is the only way to keep the Noldor united…we can’t stay divided because of old mistrust between us and stand together against a common enemy…I am so sorry…”_

_Hearing her begging for their forgiveness, was almost too much. Trying to not scare her too much, Maedhros' brothers and Celebrimbor caught her in the middle of a family hug, showing that no matter what they personally thought, she was the Head of the family and the one who had the final word. However, at hearing the sounds of footsteps from outside the tent, they were forced to quickly move apart before someone saw the family hug._

_“Your Highness, High Queen Nelyafinwë. Prince_ _Ñolofinwë has arrived.”_

_Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Maedhros did what her family had called “put on the royal mask” back in their younger days of childhood. Repressing her feelings and showing the best regal look she could made with all the scars in her face, Maedhros nodded to her family to follow her outside. But there was nearly no life in her grey eyes; they were empty and more than one of her brothers felt as if they were watching the motherly, gentle sister they once had known to be buried alive and in her stead leaving a bitter, broken woman who they did not know at all._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It took ten days to ride from Formenos to Alqualondë. During that time, the members in the House of Fëanor noticed several times that Rûsa hid behind them without explaining why. However, a quick look towards either Galadriel, Finrod or Argon gave a faint explanation to his behaviour. Argon, who was the youngest of Finwë's grandchildren alongside Amrod and Amras, was easily spooked into stopping by a warning glare from both Fëanor and a very displeased Maedhros. It was a little harder to make Finrod and Galadriel stop, as they were much older and more used in the art of using osanwë. However, Finrod would often glare nervously towards Finwë as explanation when Maedhros gave him a warning look when she that he used osanwë on her son. As for Galadriel, she did not seem to hold a wish in getting on her uncle’s and cousin’s bad side given that it actually had been Finwë's orders about it.

“Really, is it that important to find out why my son seem to act far older than what he looks?” whispered Maedhros at such a moment to Nerdanel, who gave her a similar look of disappointment over her law-father's odd order.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It was during a halt for the evening on the fourth day after leaving Formenos, when they were setting up the tents around the camp place, as a new problem showed up. To be fair, it was not really a problem from the start but transformed into one just because of different views on what was proper royal behaviour and not.

“Very good, princess Saira. A excellent show of your dance skills, you will without doubt have many requests to a dance on the masquerade ball,” said the Noldorin _nis_ in change of being the Dance Mistress at Indis' court. In the background, Rûsa hid a yawn of boredom. He would have loved to follow some of his uncles out on a small hunt to catch a hunting game that could service as some fresh meat to dinner later, but for some reason Indis has requested his presence during Saira's dance lesson.

“Well done, Saira. All right, prince Russafinwë, it is your turn.”

Rûsa froze in his movements at the Dance Mistress' words. It was not that he was unable to dance, he had learned some basic beginner dances by his maternal family for the yearly festivals, but mainly because the formal dances at the royal court simply was not in his taste. Therefore, in his classical bluntness, Rûsa replied in a dismissing voice:

“ _No thanks_.”

The mere fact that he spoke against her in such a manner, along with that he refused to stand up at her words, was seen as a horrible act of disrespect against your elders for the present count ladies. Indis had left a few minutes prior for something and thanks to that, would not be able to prevent a possible fight.

“Eh…Dance Mistress, I do not think that Rûsa is in the right mood for a dance lesson at the moment…”

True to her peaceful nature Saira tried to help Rûsa, but was quickly rewarded with a sharp scolding from the Dance Mistress:

“Don’t speak against your elders or speak without being addressed, princess Saira!”

The sharp tone clearly made Saira upset, but she managed to master her feelings without starting to cry.

“That was unnecessarily hard against Saira, _old hag_.”

“And that is not a term to address a elder as well, Russafinwë.”  

Too late realized Rûsa his mistake in who it was behind him:

Finwë himself. And from the look on his face, along with his hands on the hips, he was not very pleased with the way Rûsa acted toward the Dance Mistress.

“Great-grandfather!” said Saira in surprise, making a curtsey in greeting just like the court ladies. Rûsa, on the other hand, was a little too nervous to remember that he should make a bow in greeting. With a small, strained noise in displeasure over his behaviour, the Dance Mistress put a hand on Rûsa's head to turn him around and forced him into bowing down for Finwë.

“Dance Mistress.”

“Yes, your Highness?”

“Teach Russafinwë the formal dances that is to be danced on the masquerade ball. It will be Saira's task to be his dance partner during the training under your watchful eyes.”

The two Elflings in question, gave each other a equivalent look of disgust and agreement of disliked suffering over what their common great-grandfather just had said. Since Finwë were too risky as a target, they did a silent agreement about the Dance Mistress, as she had been the one to start it all.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

During the next following four days, neither Rûsa or Saira was found to be in a good mood. It was one thing to train a little on dancing together, but a whole different matter in being forced to train on the dance steps every time the royal court made a break to let the horses rest for a bit or when they made up camp for the evening.

“I do not like the way Rûsa's and Saira's eyes looks like. I have a bad feeling about what they seems to be planning,” Amarië said once in passing to Maedhros when they spotted their children under a small birch tree, heads put together over a parchment and whispering.  

“I will only say one thing: Stay away from my nephew when he has that look, unless you want to be caught in whatever he is planning,” informed Celegorm as he walked past the two female Elves, carrying onsmall pile of sticks to build a fire. Amarië gave Maedhros a little scared glance, hoping that it would not be something dangerous that would not get her young daughter in trouble.

“Don't worry, Rûsa won't let Saira get in trouble for something he has planned,” insured Maedhros to lessen Amarië's worry.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At dawn the next morning, half the camp was suddenly awakened by a loud, female scream in distress.

“Who is offering themselves to be the morning bugle?” growled Caranthir as he sat up in his bed roll, trying to not kick someone of his parents in the same movement. Maedhros rose up on her elbows from her side of the large tent, somewhat still half asleep. Rûsa mumbled something in his sleep and moved around in his bed roll so he got closer to his mother.

“How in Arda is he able to remain asleep after hearing such a scream this early in the morning?” moaned Nerdanel before putting her pillow over her face to try and get back to sleep.  

“Whoever it is that screamed like that, it is a little to early to get up yet…” commented Fëanor in a lazy voice, waving dismissing with one hand without getting up from his place beside Nerdanel. A shadow was seen from the outside, and a guard’s voice said:

“Pardon the scream earlier, my lords and ladies. It turned out to be the Dance Mistress at the queen's court. It seems like she has been the victim for some misfortune during the night in her sleep, for nearly her whole upper body, head and hair is now coloured in a very deep blue colour after that a blanket with the same hue suddenly fell down on her.”

All the four adults in the tent held back a groan. They knew who was responsible. A somewhat mean prank like that was actually a _lighter_ punishment from Rûsa, affected by his past life in Angband as he still was at times. It had taken them several years just to make him stop fearing that he would be punished for something that clearly was a accident.

“He will have to collect firewood with Snowflake for the rest of the trip. The Dance Mistress can be grateful for that he did not cut off her hair or so instead…”      

Maedhros shuddered at the memory of having her hair forcefully shaven off on Morgoth's orders after Rûsa's birth, only a few minutes after that Sauron had taken her newborn son away. It was still one of her most traumatic memories from Angband and she would not be surprised if she shared that trauma with other Elves who once had been enslaved in Angband.

“Good point, Nelyo. Now, try to sleep for the few remaining minutes before someone else comes to wake us up again…”

A faint snore told her that either her father or brother had gone back to sleep after finishing talking. And if she looked enough much, Maedhros could have sworn that Rûsa was grinning in his sleep. She just hoped that it was not something new he planned as a prank for the future.


	18. Meetings and plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The royal family arrives at Alqualondë

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Fair warning, this chapter has a little “getting past the radar”-moment

The sun was shining when the Noldorin royal court arrived to Alqualondë at midday. White swanships could be seen coming in and out from the natural harbour, along with smaller fishing boats.

“Well, here we are. I want you others to try and cover Curufinwë and his children as best as you can, I would rather not have accusations about the First Kinslaying flung at them when we enters the city,” commanded Finwë to his younger sons and their offspring.

“Good luck covering _me_ and my height along with my red hair,” muttered Maedhros in a sarcastically intonation to some of her male cousins who gave her a weak laugh in helpless agreement.    

“Ammë, what is that large lake around here?” wondered Rûsa suddenly out aloud from where he was sitting in front of her, causing some of the other royal family members to give him a odd look. Mentally, Maedhros made a facepalm at realizing that her family had not told Rûsa about the sea.

“No, sweetie, this is the sea,” said Eärwen gently and started to explain the difference between a lake and the sea, while a bit further to the front Finarfin whispered to Fëanor:

“Is it Rûsa's first time seeing the sea during those years that he has been reborn?”

“Tell me the logic in having my family close to the city where we once took the swanships, without the protection of having our Atar nearby…”

It was a hint of shame over his past actions in Fëanor's voice, so Finarfin did not ask anymore about it. At the same time Rûsa gave Eärwen a lot of questions, blabbering unusually much even for him. Saira tried to help her paternal grandmother with some of the questions Rûsa had about the sea, seeing that Finrod and Amarië had been given a small villa here at the coast by king Olwë as a gift at her birth. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As the Noldorin entourage entered thought the pearl-white gates, it was not only Fëanor who felt the tension in the air. His children tried to keep close to each others even when being partly covered by their cousins, and Maedhros even attempted to hide Rûsa with her cloak.

“The Kinslayer family…”

Not all the whispers were friendly ones when the House of Fëanor was spotted among the riders. Some of the flat out hostile whispers flowed and ebbed like a tide as they rode forwards. Nerdanel saw how her husband's knuckles were nearly white from how hard he clutched the reins, not of fear for himself, but for that something dangerous might happen out of the blue.

“Ammë…”

“Hush, honey, try and be still for just a few more minutes until that we finally are at…!?”

Suddenly someone in the crowd used a slingshot to shot a pebble against the rump on Maedhros' horse, startling the horse into rearing. While Maedhros managed to remain in the saddle without dropping her son, the others were caught off-guard and her horse surged along the main street.

“ _NELYO!!!_ ”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The runaway horse galloped at high speed, Maedhros fought to retake control and keep Rûsa from falling off at the same time.

“Watch out!”

Many Teleri Elves hurried out of the runaway horse's path when they saw that she had no control over it.

“Olwë, Melimë, watch out!” screamed Maedhros as a warning when her runaway horse went towards the entrance of the palace where the Teleri king and queen were waiting on their Noldorin guests.

“Goodness, what…?!”

By pure luck, Maedhros finally managed to retake control over her horse and made it stop just before the stairs. However, due to the sudden stop, Rûsa went flying out of the saddle.

“Aaaah!”

But it was neither king Olwë or queen Melimë who caught him. To everyone's surprise, it was actually Maeglin who caught Rûsa in her arms, slumping back a few steps by the sudden force against her chest before she landed with her back against the palace wall, slowly sliding down into a sitting position with Rûsa in her arms.

“By the Valar, what happened, princess Maitimo?!” worried Olwë as he took hold of the reins, seeing how pale Maedhros' face was and how she was shaking in her whole body where she laid face down over her horse's neck. Clearly she was in shock, for how close her son had been in danger. Maedhros moved her lips in a attempt to explain, but no sound came out.

“No, don't try to speak, just…just focus on getting down at the moment…” pleaded Melimë, placing a hand on Maedhros' knee. Slowly, Maedhros managed to slide out of the saddle, but the shock was causing her to be unstable on her feet, making Olwë having to help her sit down on the large marble stairs while a stable boy took away her horse.

“Well, whatever it was that caused the horse to run away like that it clearly is dangerous with a young Elfling in the saddle,” said Maeglin, causing Rûsa to look up. When he saw who it was what had caught him, Rûsa's face quickly became the colour of his hair out of really deep embarrassment. Then, without warning, he suddenly fainted.

“Huh?” wondered Maeglin in brief confusion, before she realized that she must be the reason to why Rûsa had fainted. Naturally, of all the ways to meet face-to-face again for the first real time since the Halls of Mandos, as the event with the House of Fëanor getting poisoned would not count, this understandably was not how he had planned to meet her again.

“Nelyo! Rûsa!!”

Unsurprisingly, out of worry for his only daughter and younger grandson, Fëanor had broken the rules in how to behave at arriving to another king's realm and riding ahead of his father, quickly followed by his wife, children and law-daughters.

“Prince Curufinwë Fëanáro, don't ride ahead of your sire like that!” scolded one of the Noldorin courtiers at the firstborn son of Finwë completely unaware of that everyone else in the Noldorin royal family were either rolling their eyes or making a disbelieving face that clearly said in agreement:

_Is this really the right time to complain about proper royal behaviour when one of our horses gets frightened and starts running away with risk for injury on the riders?_           

By now, Maedhros had finally found her voice again and were looking around in fear for that Rûsa had been harmed.

“Rûsa! Where is Rûsa?!”

“I have him here, lady Maedhros.” answered Maeglin in Avari Sindarin out of instinct after having spent the summer with her father in the Metal clan. Seeing that Rûsa was unharmed outside the minor fact that he had fainted from shock, made everyone in the Noldorin royal family relax a little more.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Because of how things had turned out at their arrival, Olwë gave orders to let Maedhros and Rûsa rest for the remaining part of the day so they could recover from the shock.

“That is very unusual for you, cousin, fainting like that...I don't think I've seen you do that before…unless we count that time you froze in your movement at seeing a little too realistic mask of Sauron in the play of Luthien and Beren's tale…” joked Celebrimbor as he peeled an apple for Rûsa.

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny, Tyelpë…” commented Rûsa from the bed facing the wall, refusing to show how much he still blushed at the memory of exactly _how_ he had landed in Maeglin's arms. A normal Elfling might not think much about it, but as Rûsa had his adult mind, he tended to see things from a very different, far more grown-up view. Meaning that things that might be innocent for normal Elflings would make him embarrassed or uncomfortable. The simple fact of that Maeglin had been his involuntary concubine in Angband and him remembering a couple of far too intimate details about her thanks to that…

“ _I should count myself lucky if she doesn’t threatening to castrate me for that, once she understands that I have all the memories of my past life!!_ ”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Maeglin had returned to the Metal clan camp outside Alqualondë. Unusually for being her, she had requested some of the youths to come and help her get rid of some anger with a couple of matches in using a naginata.

“P-pardon, milady!”

Unsurprisingly, Maeglin did both win and lose against the younger Elves. After a twentieth match, she declared that it was enough for her and thanked the others for their help.

“I needed that…”

Just like Rûsa feared, Maeglin did indeed understand that he still had his past life's memories and the not-so-innocent reaction of his over landing on her chest like that. If he had not been in the body of a Elfling at the moment, and she therefore would only gain complaints from others if she punished him, Maeglin would already have challenged Rûsa to a battle match between warriors as punishment.

“But I won't let him get away without a warning, at least…”

Around her, different members in both the Wood clan and the Metal clan were making the finishing touches on the face masks that had been requested by the guests to the masquerade ball. Since all six of the Avari clans had been recreated around the middle to the end of the Second Age, they had grown especially famous in Aman for their craft of face masks, a much necessary part of their custom of making theatre plays based on both real historical events and normal stories.

“Maeglin, stop playing with the naginata and come over here to help!”

Having over the naginata to another young She-elf, Maeglin did a quick warm-up so her muscles would not be stiff after the matches.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Rûsa watched. Hiding himself in the shadow at the large fireplace in the living room, he watched Caranthir as the older Elf hummed for himself while he embroidered a design on the fabric as he had on his knees. There was no doubt that the fourth-born Feanorian had inherited some of his paternal grandmother Miriel's skills in needle-work, for worked fast with a steady hand on the design. It was hard to be seen from where Rûsa was watching his uncle, but the design slowly became a embroidered portrait of Haleth._

_“Good, now I only need a dark green colour for her tunic…”_

_Suddenly a slight pull on the fabric told him about Rûsa's presence. Uncle and nephew slowly met face to face, none of them really sure to make the next move. After all, it was still only a few days since the two grandsons of Fëanor had been reborn. Again, Rûsa pulled uncertainly on the fabric, his black eyes switching between the portrait of Haleth and his uncle's hands, long and slender yet without doubt strong enough to quickly strike against Rûsa as punishment for having interrupted his work. And yet, much to Rûsa's surprise, he was allowed to take the fabric without any sight of being punished. Yet he still feared that it would come a fist against his face any moment, so Rûsa only took a quick look on the embroidered portrait before he clumsily shoved the fabric back to Caranthir and hurried away back upstairs to hide inside the sleeping chamber that belonged to his mother. On the other hand, Caranthir had almost expected that reaction given the way Rûsa had lived in Angband, thus being ready to catch the fabric in his arms and careful to not any sound that Rûsa could misread as anger._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The next morning inside the palace, Finwë and Indis met up with Olwë and Melimë outside on a private balcony for some tea, where they had a very nice view over the sea. Thingol and Melian was also there, as their family were invited to the masquerade ball too.

“On behalf of my people, I have to ask forgiveness about the event yesterday at your arrival, seeing that princess Nelyafinwë and her young son could have been seriously harmed. I only hope that prince Fëanáro won't hold this against the Teleri, seeing how protective he is of his children now after their rebirth…” said Olwë with a troubled look on his face, clearly worrying of how this might affect the relationship between Alqualondë and Formenos. Melimë put her own hand over her husband's, trying to support him.

“I shall talk with my firstborn about this. Since Nelyo and Russafinwë turned out to be without harm, he might be able to calm down a bit…”

Finwë was interrupted by several voices below the balcony:

“ _Get that big bird away from me!_ ”

“ _We have barely been here for one day and you are already getting yourself in trouble,_ _Rûsa?_ ”

“ _Quit laughing over there, Tyelko, and help us make that male swan stop chasing our nephew instead! Ai,_ _Astarë, watch out!_ ”

“Had it not been your grandchildren, Finwë, I would have believed it to be my great-grandsons Eluréd and Elurín. They tend to annoy the swans by mistake as well,” Thingol commented while drinking some more of the tea. Melian, on the other hand, rose from her chair and bent slightly over the balcony's edge to see what was going on in the small garden below. She could spot Curufin and Astarë running after a young Elfling that was chased by a angry swan, Celegorm in another spot where he was too busy in laughing so hard that he was not useful at all currently. Then Maedhros showed up as well, angrily scolding her brothers for not watching their nephew better when they actually should be able to remember how it was to babysit adventurous Elflings.

“Some things never changes with that family my firstborn created with my first law-daughter…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By coincidence, as Maedhros carried Rûsa back inside under one arm, muttering to herself that Celebrimbor really needed a younger sibling and that Celegorm was in a serious need of getting a wife of his own to finally make her second and fourth brother become more responsible again, Taurion showed up with a empty box that he had been carrying wooden face masks in.

“My, look who's showing up as a good example of parenthood right when we need you!” said Maedhros, smiling and quickly set Rûsa down on the floor so he could hurry up to Taurion and hug him. Taurion laughed, spinning around while letting Rûsa swing himself from his father's right arm.

“Perfect timing for showing up, Taurion, I would love a little of your help in something…”

It did not take many minutes for Rûsa to find the face mask of copper that had been sent to Maedhros in Formenos and return. While Taurion was more used to wooden masks as a result of being the chieftain for the Wood clan, he could tell right away that the copper face mask was of Avari origin.

“The Metal clan holds a serious pride in being able to make face masks that fits very well to the Elf who shall wear it. While it clearly is of Avari origin when it comes to making, the style is also somewhat Noldorin in way of using the gemstones instead of different painting colours. Like a Avari Elf from the Metal clan who has been separated from the Metal clan for at least two Ages. As in the Years of the Trees to the middle of the Second Age, when the Clans started to be recreated. And since the Metal clan was all but destroyed in name only a few months after that the Noldor began the Great Journey to Aman in Years of the Trees 1105…”

“And the Noldor arrived in Aman in Years of the Trees 1133. Add in that it is about 50 Years of the Sun in 12 Valian years, and the Great Journey took 28 Years of the Trees…who knows what happened to the Avari clans during those years, seeing that you were spread out across Beleriand in a attempt to not let Morgoth's evil beings catch you far too easy?” 

Rûsa felt his head starting to spin over what his parents were talking about and quickly put his hands over his ears to shut them out for a couple of moments before he became too dizzy. He did find history interesting to learn, but all the different years and dates tended to be somewhat of a mental torture for him at times, given his past illiteracy from when he was living in Angband. Lucky for him, it did not take long for his parents to notice.

“Sorry about that, Rûsa, we came away from what we should have talked about. Hmm…”

Suddenly it seemed like Taurion got a idea when he temporarily held up the copper face mask in the light so he could see it beside Maedhros' face, based on the way he acted almost exactly like his youngest son when something clicked in his mind. It was almost the look of a trickster in his eyes, and he had a smug smile on his lips when he looked over his shoulder to Rûsa.

“Maedhros, can I borrow both the mask and yourself for a couple of hours? Rûsa, please tell your maternal family that your mother will be with me before the masquerade ball and that you can come to get her back before the ball starts this evening.”

“Yes…wait, what!?” replied Maedhros in surprise when Taurion took hold of her wrist and pulled her along, her copper face mask in his other hand. Rûsa tried to keep up with them once the meaning of his father's odd behaviour stuck in, but as his new body was still about the same size as a human four-year-old, he ended up very far behind, especially as both of his parents were very tall by Elvish standards.

“Ada, what are you planning?” called Rûsa after them, stopping in a doorway before he risked to run into a palace maid who was carrying a tray in her hands.

“A small riddle for your ammë's secret admirer to figure out during the masquerade ball! Don't worry, Arion, it is nothing big!” announced Taurion in answer while he helped Maedhros to get up on his horse. Rûsa raised a eyebrow in disbelief, his father only used his Sindarin father-name whatever it was something special Taurion had in mind.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A couple of hours went. Then, about a hour before that the masquerade ball would start, Rûsa followed his maternal grandparents out to the hills outside Alqualondë where the Wood clan had set up their camp.

“Where is Taurion?”

One of Atara's sisters was kind enough to point towards a tent, not talking because of that she held a sewing tread between her teeth and was busy in making clothing for her young infant son, who challenged his mother's work a little extra by attempting to crawl away despite that she had put him in a baby harness just to prevent that. Thanking her, Fëanor went straight to the tent and pulled back the tent opening to enter while saying:

“All right, Taurion, exactly what is it that you are…”

He stopped, stunned by the scene of front of him. One of the females inside the lightened tent was without any doubt Maedhros, it was very hard to miss that height of hers. Maedhros was dressed in a wrist-long Ionic chiton of white cotton fabric, properly girdled at the waist. She was also wearing a white veil over her copper-red hair, effectively hiding her identity once she would be taking on her face mask of coppar. But what surprised her father was not the clothing that she wore, but rather the sight of that six of Taurion's seven baseborn daughters being dressed in exactly the same manner as Maedhros. 

“Ada Taurion, why are six of my half-sisters having their hairs dyed into a more copper-tone and dressed similarly to my ammë?” questioned Rûsa once he got sure that he was not hallucinating. Taurion answered with whistling innocently, which did not fool anyone and Atara facepalmed at her husband's actions before she pointed at Taurion, saying:

“He wants to play a ' _little_ ' riddle with Maedhros' secret admirer, to see if that guy is able to spot which one of those seven ladies who is the real Maedhros and which ones who are not. Taurion even found six copper face masks that we have partly painted so they have patterns in the shape of the gemstones…”

Atara's expression told everyone that she was not really amused at all over what Taurion had for idea.

“Forgotten that we had our first meeting in a similar manner when we were youngsters and I mistook you for one of your sisters, beloved Atara?” teased Taurion calmly from his corner of the tent, making Atara blush.

“Say no more, you two…” pleaded Maedhros to her parents, looking a bit awkward over the whole situation in question while Rûsa's half-sisters put on specially-made wooden sandals to make themselves look taller and closer to Maedhros' own height.

“We are finished, ada Taurion.”

“Good. Time to go to the palace, or we will be late.”

Clapping his hands once, Taurion went to the tent opening to let them go out first. Mentally, Maedhros could only pray to the Valar for that this crazy idea would not mess up for both herself and her secret admirer.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Auhtor’s note: For those who are confused about the different times that Taurion and Maedhros spoke about, check out the website Tolkien gate way dot net, and the LOTR wiki page about Formenos


	19. Revealing faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros gets a pleasant surprise

The masquerade ball began in the early evening. As many invited guests had brought their children along to Alqualondë, it would simply not do of the parents to bring the children along just to have them miss all the fun because it was way past their bedtime. Therefore, the first part of the ball was to entertain the youngest guests.

“Try to keep Rûsa from eating too many sweets, ok? Better to not having him get a sugar-rush among people and ending up climbing somewhere impossible again. People in Formenos are used to his odd behaviour at times, but here it could give him a bad image. And for the love of the Allfather, keep him away from the alcoholic drinks,” commanded Fëanor in a silent whisper to Amrod and Amras. His twin sons nodded in agreement. It had taken a long time to stop false rumours about Rûsa in Tirion and the last thing they needed now was something that could start new such rumours.  

“Duty noted, Atar…ah, better get to work quickly, then!” said Amras in surprise at spotting Rûsa's red braid around a table with some wine glasses filled with a red wine that easily could be mistaken for the raspberry juice meant for the Elflings to drink.

“We really need to find a pair of sweet girls to them, I know that they enjoys being single but they can't always hide the way they look when families goes past them,” said Nerdanel as she took a wine glass from a tray offered from a servant. Fëanor nooded, only half-listening as he was trying to spot where Maedhros was. His children had spread out in the ballroom, and with everyone wearing a mask, it was very hard to see where they were.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Soon, it was not unseen that different Elflings tried to request another for a dance. 

“Rûsa! Rûsa, do you want to dance?” asked Saira with a friendly smile, having finally found him and Celegorm in a corner to get some free space from all the other Elves. 

“I am not in the mood right now, but perhaps uncle might!” answered Rûsa while smiling mischievously behind his pale green wooden mask Taurion had given him. As Celegorm had been looking at something else, he failed to spot the meaning behind the words in time.

“Oh, yes. Wait, what?!”

“Perfect! It gets a little boring to dance with other Elflings all evening!” laughed Saira cheerfully.

“Eh, I don't think it would be seen as proper if...oi!”

Saira grabbed Celegorm by his hand and dragged him away to the dance floor.

“If you happen to dance too fast, don't let me get swept along the floor! Great-grandmother Indis and the other Vanyarin guests would not be happy over that!” commented Saira while the music started to be played again.

“Sorry, uncle!” snickered Rûsa in obvious amusement over the odd dance couple, as he and Celegorm exchanged looks from across the room while Celegorm danced with Saira. At the end of the first dance as he twirled a laughing Saira around himself, Celegorm gave Rûsa a cheeky little grin that pretty much said: 

_Why did you have to get me into this, brat?!_

Those who had not spotted the obvious fact about that it was Celegorm seemed to be amused as well over Saira managing to catch an adult dance partner. But especially Finrod, who had seen Rûsa trolling his uncle and could only laugh at the irony over that his Fëanorian cousin was dancing with his daughter.

“An indirect payback for me over the events in Nargothrond, huh?” he smirked as Saira insisted on dancing a second dance with Celegorm.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maedhros watched the scene with her brother and cousin-child as well, finding it just as funny as Finrod. If that did not show what Rûsa had inherited from Taurion, she did not know. For all of her brothers' cleverness on different things, it always amused Maedhros whatever Rûsa managed to trick them just because of that he tended to think outside the box as a result of his past life in Angband.

“It never fails to make me laugh at them…”

Suddenly a pair of hands, dressed in white gloves, were put over her eyes from behind. For a moment, Maedhros felt a wave of panic as it brought up a quick memory of that Sauron tended to blindfold her just before a whipping as part of the torture she had been subject to while carrying Rûsa.

_“N-no…please no…not this, not this, please!! I-I will work faster, I will work better, please! Anything else than this! Please...please no!”_

_“And not letting me have a little fun? Sweet princess Maitimo, face the obvious fact: The closer you are getting to your due date, the slower you have been working down at the furnaces. And slaves that can't keep up the pace of work or are being lazy in other ways…needs to be punished so they are reminded of their place.”_

A faint wail of distress left Maedhros at the horrible memory, and she felt herself starting to shake in her whole body. Then, she felt a weak wind from the sea passing in thought a window somewhere and the scent of an perfume oil consisting of lavender, chamomile and pear blossoms surrounded her. An scent that immediately calmed Maedhros from the dark memories. Could it be… _Him?_ A deep, yet soft and gentle male voice whispered in her ear:

“Found you, my Fëanorian Ruby. I have to give chieftain Taurion of the Wood clan a good share of credit: It took me a good while to figure out the untold riddle he had given me, with the way he had dressed up six of his daughters in your image.”

Maedhros tried to say something, but could not find her voice in her attempt to hear if she recognized the voice. Her secret admirer carefully moved down a hand to cover her mouth, while still keeping the other hand over her eyes.

“Don't speak yet, my ruby princess. There are a little too many people here who can see us. And there are a couple of my friends who might be trying to see if I really am courting someone. Come, lets go outside. I have borrowed a small rowing boat so we can be alone. I won't take you too far away from the shore, just enough for some privacy between us both. Is that all right with you, my royal Ruby?”

Blushing in the excitement to finally see him face to face after all these years she had received his gifts under her copper face mask, Maedhros could only trust herself with a nod in agreement.

“Good to hear that, princess.”

Maedhros felt a light kiss on her neck, causing her to blush even harder, as he carefully lead her away from the ballroom.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Having escaping from the corner before Celegorm got free from Saira, Rûsa resolved to leave the ballroom for a while. It was not like that he was the main event, and he wanted a small break from all the people inside. Taking off his face mask, Rûsa used it to fan his warm face for a couple of moments.

“Why can't the masquerade ball be held outside? I understands that it is lesser risk to have the fine dresses and robes strained with dirt and mud if it is inside a ballroom, but it would be far more fun out in the garden or something…”

Feeling that he was rather thirsty, Rûsa half-wished that he had brought a glass with the raspberry juice along from the ballroom. In the next moment, a shadow fell over him while he felt a light pressure on his head. Like a hand to keep him stand still.

“Why is it that both times we meet each other face-to-face for the first time as living Elves, you somehow end up getting little too close a look at me?”

Rûsa froze at hearing the female voice, realizing that it could be no one else than Maeglin. Trying to not make himself stutter or look like a fool, he gave her a nervous glare:

“I-it was not p-planned, neither in _that place_ or yesterday…I d-didn't know that the Fallen Vala a-and Fallen Maia p-planned to m-match me up with s-someone…and y-yesterday, it happened because of that I f-flew out of the saddle as ammë stopped the horse…”

Mentally, Rûsa prayed desperately that she would believe him. He knew that Maeglin was unlikely to hit him, but some of his old habits and fears from Angband tended to show up again in a situation like this. Especially given how Sauron always had tried to spot a chance to punish Rûsa for something. Nowadays, with knowing his parentage, Rûsa strongly suspected that Saurion had been very jealous for the attention Morgoth had given him because of that he was a grandson of Fëanor. That Rûsa was the only child Morgoth had managed to breed from Maedhros and thus would be impossible to replace because of Fingon had saved her before Maedhros could have been used for breeding again, likely had some part in it as well.

“Relax, Rûsa. I am not angry with you for the event that happened yesterday.”

“Y…you a-are not?”

Rûsa did not care for if he made a fool out of himself in this moment, he wanted to fix all of this about him and Maeglin no matter what had happened between them in the past. Blushing, Rûsa awkwardly held out a pendant made of amber towards Maeglin, trying to not see her in the eyes.

“For me?”

“Yes.”

For the Avari Elves, giving an amber pendant to another Elf was a unspoken way of saying ' _I am sorry for what happened in the past. Can we try to start over from the beginning?_ '. If the other Elf accepted the amber pendant, it meant a positive answer, but a negative answer if the pendant were not accepted.

“I forgave you a long time ago, Rûsa, amber pendant of forgiveness or not. I know that you never would harm me when I was your forced concubine in Angband, I saw it in your body language that you were just as terrified as myself when the Fallen Vala forced us to bond. And you saved me from an even worse fate of being a breeding slave when you chose to take me despite that you did not know me at all. If that is not a proof of your kind heart and generosity against others despite how you lived in Angband, then what is such a strong proof?”  

Carefully bending down so she came closer to his level, Maeglin kissed Rûsa on the forehead to show that she really meant her words.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_If it was something that Elrond and Elros had noticed over the last four years that had passed since the Third Kinslaying in Sirion, so was that Maedhros was different from other She-Elves they knew in their young lives. Not in that she was a female warrior, not in that she was a Kinslayer, not in that she had terrible mood swings that could show up without warning for something and clearly not in the way her whole body was covered in scars from her time in Angband. No, it was the sadness in Maedhros' grey eyes, on the bad days when she was unable to leave her bed thanks to her phantom pains, whatever she remembered her relatives lost to death or seemed to feel that the Oath was eating her and Maglor alive the longer they were unable to fulfil the Oath._

_“What is she doing?” whispered Elros softly, as they watched her go down to the river close to Amon Ereb, carrying a small candle holder made of clay with a lit light in her left hand._

_“I don't know, but I hope that she won't harm herself again. I am still scared after that we entered her room just as she was holding her dagger against the artery in her neck and we had to scream for ada Maglor to stop her,” shushed Elrond and shuddered at the memory in question. Maedhros' heavy losses in life made it a serious threat in that she could carry on suicidal thoughts, and Maglor, in his understandable fear to lose the remaining living sibling he had, had pleaded with the boys to help him keep a watchful eye on his sister's behaviour when they did not have their daily lessons._

_“Come on, or we will lose her out of sight!”_

_They followed Maedhros down to the river, where she entered the lower part at the sandy bank. Standing in the water half-way up her leather boots, Maedhros bent down and let the current in the middle of the river slowly take the candle holder away from her left hand. They saw how she watched the lit candle flow away, then how she took a step deeper into the river._

_“Aunt Maedhros! You will only be scolded by the healers again if you show up at dinner with wet clothes if you slip!” called Elros out loudy, starting Maedhros and made her turn around to face them. Much to the young twins' growing worry, Maedhros was crying. It was never a good sign, either she had so horrible phantom pains that she cried from the pain, or she was in such deep grief that she did not care what others saw._

_“Aunt…aunt, please don't cry…please…”_

_They were not sure if their pleading was really heard, but Maedhros quickly caught them in her arms as she collapsed down on the river bank and refused to let go while she cried so hard that her whole body was shaking._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By now, Maedhros' secret admirer had lead her down to the harbour and had used the borrowed rowing boat to bring them a bit away from the shore for some well-needed privacy.

“There. I think this is good enough.”

Lowering the anchor to the sea bottom so the row boat would not go any further away without them noticing, he carefully sat down on the other seat in the rowing boat. Not really sure what to talk about, Maedhros instead chose to take a good look at him. He was tall, about the same height as her father, muscular as a blacksmith would be after many years of working in the forge. He was dressed in a wine-red robe, with only white as an added coloured pattern in a couple of simple squares so the red colour was a little softer. White hair caught in a long braid hung over one of his broad shoulders. On his forearms he wore two bracelets of silver, partly covered by the white gloves, from which it came that familiar scent of the perfume oil consisting of lavender, chamomile and pear blossoms. His face mask was a simple wooden mask, painted in a light blue colour.

“I am glad that you estimated the face mask that I gave to you. I remembered how you often would only wear a simple copper circlet back in the Years of the Trees and thought that you would like something like that.”

“Thank you.”

To Maedhros' surprise, he bent forwards and gently took off her mask from her face. She was pretty sure that her blushing cheeks must be seen in the summer evening. Out of shyness that normally was not part of her personality at all, Maedhros closed her eyes. She could feel a hand against her cheek, he had taken off the glove so it could be a real physical contact between them. Then, the veil was removed so her copper-red hair was blotted.   

“You are so beautiful, princess Maitimo…a truly rare gem among the Noldor, a ruby who never should have been ruined by Angband as you sadly were. When I think of how you and your son must have suffered in there, I feel even more regret over how the Fallen Vala ruined your Atar with his lies…had it not been for that fateful event of lord Fëanor threatening lord Ñolofinwë with his sword no less than twice on just the very same day that I had planned to reveal myself to you, princess, who knows what could have been…”

“ _Wait, wait…is he going to…!_ ”

Their lips suddenly met in a unexpected kiss, at which she suddenly opened her eyes. Moving up her own hands, Maedhros tried to keep him distracted with the kiss and took hold of his own face mask. Then, before he could react, Maedhros quickly removed the face mask to finally the true face of her secret admirer.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In exactly that same moment, back at the palace:

“Ammë! Ammë, where are you?” called Rûsa, having tried to find his mother for the past five minutes, as he came out on the palace roof to see if he could spot Maedhros somewhere. By now, all the other Elflings had started to leave the masquerade ball expect for him and Saira, who had their guestrooms here in the palace. All the adults had taken off their face masks and started to have a little more formal version of a ball, seeing that it was useful with a small break in wearing the face masks all evening.

“Lady Maitimo was not down in the ballroom with the rest of our large family and many relatives, she would have been noticed otherwise by her height,” gasped Saira as she climbed up right behind him. She was not as skilled in climbing as Rûsa, along with just having discovered that a long and formal dress clearly was not meant to climb into. Rûsa groaned while helping Saira climb over the edge so she came up on the roof beside him. Where could his mother be?

“Whoever her secret admirer is, he better not have stolen her away…”

“Hey! What are the two of you doing up here on the roof, brats!? It is dangerous up here for you!”

Suddenly a adult, male Elf showed up. Because of that he was not someone neither Rûsa or Saira recognized, they acted on instinct and ducked for his hands when he reached out to grab hold of them.

“No less dangerous than a suspicious adult, mister!”

The adult Elf tripped over thanks to their ducking and fell down from the roof straight down into a deep well at the ground.

“Aaah!”

_Splash!!_

“Oops. That was not what we meant…” said Saira in a mix of dismay and amusement when she heard the sound of the adult Elf falling into the water. Rolling his eyes Rûsa spotted a long rope with a bucket, clearly meant to water the flowerbeds up here on the roof, and commanded Saira to help him try to pull up the unlucky Elf.

“Goodness, adults sure are heavy!”

As they tried to pull more on the rope, Maeglin showed up at the staircase.

“There you two are. It is time for bedtime, in case you haven't noticed all the other Elflings have left.”

“We were only trying to find lady Maitimo, and now we are trying to pull up that Sindar Elf up from the well when he fell into it,” explained Saira while Rûsa tried to gain a better foothold because of the weight in the other end of the rope.

“…' _Trying to pull up a Sindar Elf from a well_ '…yes, that one I have never heard before…”

“ _Help!_ ”

Lucky, the distressed call revealed for Maeglin that it was no joke. Seeing that Rûsa and Saira alone could not pull up the Sindar Elf thanks to him being a little too heavy for their young bodies, Maeglin helped them to pull up the male Elf. However, when he was drawn up and she could see who it was, Maeglin hissed in a poisonous voice:

“Daeron.”

The former minstrel of Doriath smiled awkwardly. Then, without warning, Maeglin suddenly let go of the rope and Daeron fell instantly back into the well with a surprised cry. When Saira and Rûsa stared in disbelief at her, Maeglin simply shrugged in self-satisfaction and went to leave the roof.

“... That's why great-grandma Indis says she'll never get married, and lord Eöl tends to answer back to her that's the perfect behaviour of a properly independent Avari lady.” was all Saira said in a matter-of-fact voice, causing Rûsa to howl with laughter. The culture clashes between the Avari Elves and other Elves outside Formenos never stopped to be a reason for a source for amusement for those who saw it often.  

“Speaking about people that are missing from the ballroom, I am trying to find one of my fellow Lords of Gondolin too. All twelve of us had planned to meet up around this time and one of them are not seen since the start of the ball,” informed Maeglin somewhere from the stairs.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“You are…”

Maedhros felt a huge turmoil of feelings in her heart when she looked at him. Once, long before the Darkening of Valinor, she had caught his eyes on her and secretly wondered if he might be her secret admirer, but back then she had been a little too busy in babysitting her younger brothers and quickly forgot that thought as her brothers took back her attention. To find out that it really had been true, even after all those years, felt almost like an untold dream from her youth coming true.

“Yes, my ruby princess?” asked Rog calmly, letting her take in the fact that he had been her secret admirer all along, as Maedhros held a hand over her mouth to cover a small cry in joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: You did not expect it to be Rog who was Maedhros' secret admirer, right? For those who guessed right, congratulations! And for the scene with Daeron, I borrowed it from one of my favourite scenes in The Prince of Egypt from Dreamworks


	20. Dances and memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ball goes on

In the ballroom, some of the other former Lords of Gondolin met up after having searched for Rog.

“Any sign of him yet?” asked Penlod, taking off his face mask for a couple of moments. Galdor, Duilin and Egalmoth mirrored that.

“Not from what I have seen.”

“Lady Idril and Lord Tuor have not seen him too.”

“Odd, Rog never behaves like this otherwise. If I did not know any better, I would almost believe that he actually is hiding something from us…”

A light cough was heard behind them. It was Maeglin, who now held both Rûsa and Saira in her hands to not lose them.

“Sirs, watch these two youngsters or at least bring them to the right relatives, I still need to look for where Rog could have gone,” Maeglin said, before more or less shoving the two Elflings towards the four adults before they could protest. Neither Rûsa or Saira cared much, both starting to feel how late it was past their normal bedtime for them.  

“What…Maeglin, wait a little!”

But Maeglin quickly vanished among the other Elves.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Outside, Maedhros had managed to prevent herself from crying in joy. At times, she had actually feared in her heart that the anonymous gifts from Rog would be revealed to be nothing else than a cruel joke on her personal honor and social standing. Back in the Years of the Trees, her status as Fëanor's firstborn and official Heir despite that she was a female, had not made it uncommon for her to be sent both serious and false marriage requests.

“Princess Maitimo?”

Rog worried that he might have done something wrong, but calmed down at seeing Maedhros attemping to smile at him.

“S-sorry, it is just…well, everything that I have felt about your past gifts and such…”

Maedhros started to get her feelings back under control. If she played her cards right, this could become one of the best evenings in her life.

“Rog…it is such a silly question, but how come that you started to send gifts to me?”    

“Why it was you? Well…I guess that it started when your father used to bring you along to the forges in Tirion…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_It was not unheard among the blacksmiths, or at least for those who was married and had offspring, to talk about their children during a break in work. However, this day, Fëanor was not alone in arriving. His oldest child, princess Nelyafinwë had came along this morning. She was still young, just in her late 40s, but around the usual age to start becoming an apprentice. Her copper-red hair, neatly braided to stay out of the way, seemed to burn like fire in the half-lit forges as the father and daughter duo went towards where Fëanor used to work when he was here._

_“Even if it means different work from what I am used to, Atar, I am happy that you agreed.”_

_“Only a fool would fail to see that you are in serious need of a break in babysitting your brothers…ai, Nelyo!”_

_There was a sound of someone dumping their poor head against the door frame. More than one of the blacksmiths made a compassionate grimace when they understood that it must have been the young princess. True enough, prince Fëanor was quickly heard saying:_

_“Oh, that impossible height of yours…!! If you don't stop growing soon, this will be a serious issue for you in everyday life…no, no protests now, I am making you a metal headband so you won't go and harm yourself seriously next time!”_

_Everyone, even Rog, tried to pretend like they had not heard anything. The princess was in a very sensitive age and a wrong word at the wrong moment could cause a lot of trouble, not to mention making prince Fëanor think that his only daughter was being insulted for her height._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maedhros smiled shyly in slight embarrassment at the memory. That headband of thick copper had been the first one of the gifts Rog had sent to her.

“Atar and ammë really had a lot of troubles with my height during those years…and I could not believe it myself whenever I grew out of the clothes we were forced to make…”

She remembered her younger brothers asking if she really was a Maia in disguise as a joke whatever she grew out her clothes, and the surprised looks from other Elves when they were forced to lift their heads often to meet her eyes.

“Ah, the times of innocence. Troubles were of a really different sort for your family back then,” said Rog as he too remembered scenes from Maedhros' early life, causing her to laugh awkwardly. For some strange reason, she was truly able to relax in Rog's presence. She had heard Idril and Turgon mention several times back in the First Age that it was something about him that held the aura of a father-figure, a personality that made you feel safe with him.

“Perhaps that is what I am needing in a relationship…because of what happened in the First Age…”

Maedhros knew that emotionally, she was far more frailer than she ever had been before the Darkening of Valinor. Morgoth's lies and evil had deeply tainted her self-confidence, along with the massive trauma of having the newborn Rûsa taken from her almost directly after the birth. The fear of that they had killed her son had truly broken her spirit, and even if she had slowly been picking up the shards in the Halls of Mandos during the wait to be reborn, the mirror-image of her soul would forever be broken in some way.

“Matimo, may I be allowed to offer you this?”

It was a small basket of fresh summer fruits, perfect for a small snack out here in the rowing boat together.

“Yes, please.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back inside the palace, Maeglin was still looking after Rog.

“Roooooog! Where are you? This is not funny anymore, come back to the ballroom or I won't spare any of those nut cookies I know you like!”

Personally, Maeglin started suspecting that her old wonderings if he really was courting a lady in secret, actually seemed to look more and more true at the moment. The main question in that matter then was, who was the chosen lady of his heart?

“No. I am not going to stick my nose in other people's private lives. If I have managed to keep quiet about my past relationship with Rûsa until now, then I would only be a hopeless hypocrite if I try to check if Rog has an unknown lady friend. The last thing that Rûsa and I would need now when we both are reborn is other people's reaction on our common past in Angband…as if it would not be enough with the whole family…”

Maeglin never spoke with the Noldorin royal family about her time in Angband; they knew that she had been there and that it had been the reason to her betrayal of Gondolin but there had been very strict orders from the Valar to _not_ mention or ask about it because of the memories such questions would bring up.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

And in the more private guest parts of the palace, Maglor had taken the duty of putting Rûsa to bed, followed by Orodreth doing the same for his niece.   

“What is it with children in our grandfather's House and attempting to stay up last their bedtime whenever it is a bigger party like this?” Orodreth wondered as they walked upstairs to the guest wings. Maglor, who was carrying Rûsa on his back, answered over his shoulder:

“Finding it an too unusual event in contrast to everyday?”

Both of them smiled in agreement, then laughed softly at remembering their own childhood days. Rûsa, who somehow had managed to got his hands on a notable large cup of red wine and now was somewhat drunk as a result since Elflings tended to get drunk faster than adult Elves, pulled on Maglor's hair to make him shut up.

“Don't laugh, uncle…my head feels heavy already…”

“Then you should not have tried to drink the wine, nephew. You are still a little too young for that kind of drink.”

“Not my fault that the raspberry juice and the red wine looks so similar!” snarled Rûsa, now pulling painfully hard on his uncle's hair and Maglor made a mental note to warn Maedhros about that some of her son's more dangerous side of his personality risked to show up in public if he had too much alcohol. It was impossible to change Rûsa 100 % from his old identity as the Warg Rider, but one single misstep in keeping that hidden and everything they had done for Rûsa's sake, would fall apart like a card house.

“Rûsa, stop that _right now_ , or I will drop you to the floor on purpose,” Maglor warned in a calm voice, but he also used a tone that the House of Fëanor rarely talked to Rûsa with because of that it reminded him about Morgoth and Sauron. It did have the right effect, for Rûsa immediately became quiet and let go of Maglor's hair. On the other hand, Maglor regretted the way he had spoken to Rûsa, feeling that it had been a unneeded blow under the belt from him.  He would make up to his nephew with something the next day, even if it ended up backfiring at him.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Taurion's six daughters had now carefully made their ways over to their common sire, one at a time and from different places when he moved around in the ballroom alongside Atara. From what they had told him, Maedhros' secret admirer had came to all six of them during the beginning of the masquerade ball. And since they had not seen him since, along with the increasingly apparent hint that Maedhros was not in the ballroom anymore.

“Glad to see that the riddle seemed to have worked,” smiled Taurion, ignoring the fact that Atara was tugging on one of his smaller braids as an extra point in her response:

“Yeah, despite that it had a 1/7 change of success, honey.”

Her adopted daughters all rolled their eyes. Scenes like that was so common between Taurion and Atara, that often meant something was seriously wrong if it was not at least one such scene between them a day.

“Well, we will go and seek out the rest of our sisters and adult brothers along with out husbands, seeing that lord Maglor just took Rûsa to bed.”  

“Do that, girls. See if you might be able to snare some nice Teleri or Sindar ladies for those of your brothers who are still unwed. After all, we can't have too many marriages happening between the Six Clans, we need ties with the other Elf cultures as well.”

The daughters nodded, understanding why their adoptive mother brought it up. After all, when Morgoth and Sauron returned for the Final Battle, it would do all the Eldar no good if they did not stand together.

“See you later back in camp, girls.”

Taurion took a sip of his wine while he looked around the ballroom. It was hard to explain how or why, but he had a growing feeling that this night later would become a very important turning point for more than one person. Not just in their own lives, but for their families and futures as well.

“…Taurion, are you even listening to me? Look, it seems like Maedhros and her secret one are back.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Having put their face masks back on their faces to hide their identities a little along with the veil back over her copper-red hair, Maedhros and Rog were among the first couples alongside Fingon and Rilel to start the beginning steps in a more informal dance that had been rather popular in the First Age at Fingolfin's court as a result of Fingon's marriage to Rilel, given that she was a Sindarin noble among the Falathrim under Cirdan as their lord. It was an Waltz-styled dance, formed to try and being satisfying to any possible moral guardians among the Noldor and Sindar. For those who still was not pleased, well, it was not their business.

“Finno…Finno, look, look!” whispered Rilel while trying to focus on the dance at the same time. Fingon was used to this dance, and thus was not surprised that his wife tried to talk in the middle of the dance step.

“Yes, honey?”

“The pair to our left…I swear that the lady must be Nelyo, I know no other female Elf who is that tall! And she is the tallest woman in your large family…”

Fingon nodded in agreement, having wondered earlier where his oldest Fëanorian cousin had went when she had not been found in the ballroom anymore.

“Fair point, my dear wife.”

For Maedhros and Rog, they did not really care if someone saw them dancing together now in the ballroom. They wanted to enjoy the moment, a quiet little happiness over that they finally had met face-to-face. When the music finished and it was time to change dance partners to let everyone have a chance, they obviously broke against that rule in favour of dancing together again.

“I think our sister has managed to hook that secret admirer of hers,” mumbled Curufin to Caranthir, just in time for Maedhros to send them a warning glare over Rog's shoulder. That she warned them from trying anything stupid and ruin this special moment for her was crystal-clear. The two Fëanorians quickly held up their hands in a sign of peace, silently promising Maedhros that they would not try anything…yet.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_There were something different about that vampire bat._ _Rûsa could not really put his finger on it, but it was something. Catching the vampire bat's black eyes, Rûsa made a slow movement with his left hand against one of the daggers in his belt, a clear warning. Then Morgoth suddenly said:_

_“Stay your hand, Warg Rider.”_

_Then, something strange happened. The bat wings started to be peeled off in the manner of peeling skin away from a killed animal, and where it one moment earlier had been a vampire bat stood an Elven maiden dressed in a blue dress with golden flowers. Rûsa had to hold back a gasp of surprise: Never before had he seen a female Elf like this. Blacker-than-black hair, so pale skin that it seemed to be made of the whitest, scraped clean bone without a without the slightest hint of scars somewhere. But it was the eyes, grey and so deep that he came to think of an endless well, that truly captured him._

_“Oh? What do we have here?”_

_Luthien might be stripped of her disguise by the will of Morgoth, and he had bent his gaze upon her. Yet she was not daunted by his eyes. Instead, in a perfectly calm and steady voice without showing fear, she named her own name, and offered her service to sing before him, after the manner of a minstrel._

_“Not everyday the Master of Arda gets such a offering from the daughter of Melian.”_

_Then, Luthien started to sing. A song of how Arda had been created, how Eru Ilúvatar the Allfather had made everything from the beginning with Music of the Ainur, and the One's Will in everything that would happen on Arda. Against his own will, Rûsa felt how he was captured in the singing spell, his body not moving, his own mind not seeing anything else than Luthien where she sang and danced in front of the throne of Morgoth. Then, his mind began to be heavy in sleep._

_“No…I don't want to fall asleep…”_

_But Rûsa was powerless against Luthien's song, and even if he tried to stay awake with the help of the pain by cutting his hand on one of the many hidden daggers in his clothing, in the end he came fully under her spell and collapsed down on the stone floor in deep sleep, the iron mask falling off his face as he landed on his right side._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa sat up in bed, started awake by the dream. Gasping for breath, he tried to calm down his fast-beating heart. The memory of how Luthien had sneaked inside Angband and sung that song to put all of Morgoth's entire court to sleep.

“If that was not the moment I got my first real crush on someone, then I am going to eat a whole plate of my least favourite food once a month until this year's winter solstice…”

He was aware of a shadow above him, and when Rûsa looked up to see what it was, Maedhros almost collapsed on top of him.

“Wah! Ammë, this is not your guest chamber!!” protested Rûsa as he managed to crawl out from where his mother had fallen in his bed.  

“Hush, sweetie…ammë wishes to sleep…”

Maedhros was really worn out from dancing down in the ballroom until long after midnight, and in thattiredness, she did not really care where she ended up sleeping in the guest rooms for her father's House.

“But ammë…hm?”

There was a faint scent around his mother that Rûsa had not felt before at the beginning of the masquerade ball. The scent of lavender, chamomile and pear blossoms. Which could only mean one thing: her secret admirer.

“Well, that should explain why she vanished for half the ball earlier…”

Yawning, Rûsa laid himself back among the nest of pillows he had made after pulling an extra summer blanket over his already sleeping mother. He would ask her about her secret admirer tomorrow.  


	21. Family disagreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros and Indis do not agree on sensitive topic

Because of how late the masquerade ball had been going on the night before, it was a very late breakfast the next morning. More than one of the adults regretted drinking a little too much wine, because it was easy to forget how many goblets they might drink when it was a merry festive mood around.

“Morning, kids…” was all Fëanor said as greeting to his children, law-daughters and grandsons, looking like he had a very painful headache from how he held his fingers against his forehead. Similar tired greetings was given from some of his sons, at least as they all sat down on chairs around the large table where Olwë had requested pretty much everyone in the royal families to sit at.

“Where is Nelyafinwë?”

“Getting my younger cousin up from bed. He can be a little difficult in that matter if he has not slept well during the night,” answered Celebrimbor just as Maedhros arrived with Rûsa in her arms.

“And now you have gotten a real lesson in why you should keep yourself away from alcohol when your body is not mature enough or used to it,” whispered Maedhros without much sympathy or consolation to Rûsa, who had a serious hangover from the red wine he had mistaken for raspberry juice the evening before. As much as Rûsa mentally wanted to snap back because of how his head felt like it was going to spit open, he was wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

“Nelyo. After breakfast, I would like to speak with you in private,” said Indis while getting handed some bread from her uncle Ingwë. Everyone of Fingolfin's and Finarfin's children gave their Fëanorian cousins a warning look at hearing that, knowing that the coming conversation between Indis and Maedhros likely would end up in a serious fight about her status as a unwed mother.

“Straighten up a little or you will soon have your head on the plate, Rûsa,” suggested Curufin's wife Astarë gently and gave him a little pat in the back. Rûsa obeyed, but it was pretty clear that he would not have a good morning or forenoon as result.  

“Someone please hand me that pitcher of water.”

Once the breakfast was finally over, after nearly a hour of awkwardness mostly because of that things still was a “little” tense between Thingol, Celegorm and Curufin thanks to the kidnapping event with Luthien back in the First Age, Rûsa told Maedhros that he would seek out Taurion and see if the Wood clan shamans had something for his hangover.

“Ambarussa! Yes, the _both_ of you, please follow Rûsa to the Wood clan camp and ensure that he won't walk straight into something thanks to that hangover of his,” requested Maedhros in a strict voice to her twin brothers when Rûsa barely had taken ten steps before he nearly walked into a palace pillar of red sandstone because of that he kept his head bowed.

“Yes, sister Nelyo.” 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

After that Amrod and Amras had left with Rûsa, Maedhros followed Indis to a more private chamber. Dismissing her court ladies so they would be really alone, Indis said in a regal manner:

“Sit down, Nelyafinwë.”

Maedhros swallowed hard at hearing the tone her step-grandmother used, but did not say anything as she sat down on a chair. Hopefully, the conversation would not be about what she did not wish to talk about. Indis did not offer Maedhros a drink of some kind, given that they had arrived straight from breakfast.

“What is it that you wish to speak with me about, my lady?”

Now when she was a mother herself, Maedhros often felt that she crashed more than ever before with Indis' pious nature as a Vanyar Elf.

“I will go straight to the point, Maitimo: What, exactly, are your future plans for your son? He is fifteen Years of the Sun old as per this summer that just passed, and in only a few years he will be old enough to be sent to be fostered and trained in court matters here at King Olwë's or my uncle Ingwë's court. You can't keep him sheltered in Formenos forever, he is not going to remain a child all his life.”

Maedhros did not say anything at first. This was something that she knew very well, but the fear of her son being revealed as the former Warg Rider was too great. Even if nobody outside the Avari clans, her own family, Finarfin, Gil-galad and Elrond could connect Rûsa to his past life yet, it would only be a matter of time before more people figured it out. And that was the main reason to why she rarely let Rûsa leave Formenos. Even with his own past, he would not need to feel guilt over what she and her brothers had done in the Kinslayings. 

“…on top of that, I have enough of all this nonsense about you refusing to marry! Why can't you settle down with someone, Nelyo? Rumours says that you allow your son to chase away every one of your suitors without even giving them a chance to talk to you! Have you let your years in Middle-earth change you into a such contrast of your old self back in the Years of the Tress that you no longer care for the Laws and Customs of the Eldar?! Even if you are no longer wedded to the Elf who fathered Russafinwë, can't you see that your son needs a complete family with both a mother and father? It is not natural among us Eldar to be a single parent unless the spouse is in the Halls of Mandos…”

Something in Maedhros snapped at Indis' words. Memories of the torture in Angband, the horror of seeing Sauron take her newborn son away from her, the long years of believing that her only child was dead, the terrible shock of realizing that the feared Warg Rider had been her son all along. How dared Indis think that it was “only” the years in exile that had changed Maedhros, how could she think that everyone in the Noldorin royal family could stay the same as they had done in the Years of the Trees, when everything in the First Age and the long years in the Halls of Mandos had changed them so much?

“ _IT IS FOR MY SON THAT I HAVE NOT MARRIED SOMEONE YET!! DON’T TALK AS IF YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO ME IN ANGBAND!! THE DARK LORD RUINED MY LIFE IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE AS HIS PRISONER!!_ ”

Without any warning, Maedhros suddenly rose from the chair as she grabbed a ornamental bird of glass from the table beside her and threw it at Indis, barely missing her step-grandmother as it hit the wall instead.

_Crash!!_

A shocked silence filled the room, Indis was frozen stiff by shock over what Maedhros just had done and Maedhros herself had a look of slowly awakening horror over her actions. In her mind, the memories of her brothers reacting from plain disbelief to real terror over her unexpected mood swings after being saved from Angband, returned with full force. Before Indis could say anything, Maedhros rushed out from the room.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maedhros' violent outburst had not gone unnoticed by those on the floor below. More than one of Fëanor's older sons and their present cousins paled at the sound of her screaming.

“Chamomile tea for our sister?” suggested Celegorm with a forced smile towards the door, hinting towards the palace kitchen.

“A whole pot, then, if she is anything like what she would be during her recovery,” said Fingon nervously from the chair he was sitting in, holding his hands over Rilel's ears in case Maedhros would start screaming again. There were nods in agreement over his words.

“I will go and make some ginger biscuits to go with the chamomile tea. It should help as well.”

They all remembered too well how scary Maedhros' mood swings could be, and how impossible it had been to try and catch a warning about a coming mood swing where Maedhros would lash out against them for something. Sometimes it had taken a long time for the mood swing to reveal itself, other times it happened in a moment where they least expected it. And Maedhros had always looked horrified over her own behaviour once she got herself back under control…

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_About a month had passed since Fingon had saved Maedhros. The middle part of summer had came, making it warmer in the air._

_“Káno! Look what we found!” smiled Amrod with pride as he and Amras showed up, both of them holding an early variety of ripe pears in wicker baskets that they were carrying._

_“We thought that big sister Nelyo might like to have one or two pears, for surely she must be rather tired of eating little else than different sorts of broth…”_

_“DON’T TOUCH ME!!”_

_“AAAAAAAAAGH!!!”_

_Suddenly there was a angry scream, quickly followed by an loud howl of pain, echoing in the camp. In fear over that it came from the healer tent where Maedhros were, Maglor took the lead in rushing to the tent to see what was going on. What greeted him and his other brothers, was a shocking sight:_

_Fingon laid on his back on the mat, knees against his chest, holding one arm over his face in a defensive movement while trying his best to avoid hurting Maedhros, who had her teeth shrunk into her cousin's bare arm and clearly attempting to claw on his eyes with her left hand._

_“What on…” started Maglor, before Fingon interrupted him with a hint of panic:_

_“Get her off me!”_

_Amrod and Amras hurried to take hold of their sister, trying to not touch the right arm in the sling or her right shoulder in the padded leather brace that Curufin had designed to help her shoulder recover better from the unnatural manner she had hung in for so long, pushing her away while Maglor tried to help Fingon. But in his hurry to get away from her, Fingon kneed Maedhros unintentionally straight in the stomach, causing her to gasp in pain as she let go of his arm with wide eyes in clear anguish and bending forwards in her twin brothers' arms._

_“Nelyo!”_

_“Sister, are you alright?” wondered Amras in worry, as Maedhros knelt on the mat while she gasped for breath with wheezing breath. Maglor, who now tried to stop the bleeding from the bloody imprint of a full set of teeth on Fingon's arm, asked in a shaking voice:_

_“Goodness…what happened, Finno?”_

_“I think she had a flashback of how I freed her…she must have acted on instinct…”_

_If it was from the unexpected pain of Fingon kneeing her in the stomach or something else, they did not know, but Maedhros had curled up into a ball on the mat with her knees against her chest and her left arm in a protective position against her stomach, clearly attempting to protect that area of her body while still trembling from the sudden pain. In a attempt to show that they would not touch her so suddenly or harm her, Amrod draped his own summer cloak over Maedhros while Amras whispered calming words to her. They did not know if it helped her to calm down, but Maedhros slowly stopped to trembling in pain._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maedhros had stormed out from the palace into Alqualondë, running by instinct down to the harbour, and from there, to the breach. She did not stop running until that one of her boots got stuck in the wet sand and she collapsed down in the sea water.

“Not again…not again…please, no…”

Remaining on her hands and knees in the gentle sea waves, Maedhros wept bitterly. The horror of realizing that her old mood swings, caused by her captivity and torture in Angband, still remained somewhat inside her was one of the reasons to why she had stormed out like that. If she behaved like that against Indis, who had done nothing wrong outside her lack of understand the truth behind Maedhros' anger, was it a risk that she might strike out against Rûsa one day? The fear of becoming a possible abusive mother to her son was one of her most recurring nightmares.

“If people learn about it…and uses it to create rumours that I am unfit to be a mother…no! I don't want to lose Rûsa again!”

Even if Elflings were held so dearly among the Elves, the House of Fëanor's past history would, without any doubt, make moral guardians claim that any new Elfling born in Fëanor's line was not safe with that sort of relatives and try to persuade the Valar into placing said Elfling into a foster home “for the child's own good” as some of those moral guardians would say. Maedhros could not stand the idea of having her son taken away from her again.  

“Princess Nelyafinwë?”

It was Ingwë, the High King of the Vanyar Elves, who had spoken from where he was standing alone on the sand part of the breach. Completely ignoring the fact that the seawater would ruin his long robes of green-and-white silk fabric, Ingwë walked over to Maedhros and gently helped her to stand up on her feet.

“We all heard you shouting before. Your brothers and cousins were quick to explain why you would act like that, of similar events in the First Age when you lost your temper without warning. My sister-daughter stepped over a dangerous line with her words, she meant well but ended up laying more wood on the fire in your temper…”

For being the High King over some of the most pious Elves in Aman, Ingwë was reasonable laid-back and open in rather sharp contrast to his far more pious niece Indis. Personally, Maedhros and almost everyone in her family had always believed that it was because of that Ingwë had been born in Middle-earth long before the Great Journey and that Indis had been born after arriving in Aman. Fëanor, at least, had always been able to talk more openly about things with the Vanyarin High King rather than his stepmother. 

“Those who do not know what truly happened with my family in Middle-earth should keep their mouth shut…”

Maedhros knew that it were many rumours about her, how Angband had changed her and, of course, rumours about Rûsa. Curiosity about who his sire was, why her marriage had been annulled and why the House of Fëanor had not left Formenos between Year 5 of the Fourth Age and Year 22 of the Fourth Age, when they finally had showed up in Tirion again to present the 12-year-old Rûsa for the rest of the Noldorin royal family. Of course, many agreed that a very young Elfling would have difficult with the 20 days long journey between Tirion and Formenos.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in the palace, Amrod and Amras had just returned with Rûsa.

“We are back, Nelyo!” called Amras in a merry voice while letting Rûsa, who now was in a much better mood thanks to the hangover cure he had gotten from one of his half-brothers, rode on his shoulders as they looked around in the palace where Maedhros could be. What they found outside the room where Indis and Maedhros had been inside earlier, was a notable part of the Noldorin royal family.

“Eh…what has happened?” asked Amrod when the quarrelling voices of Finarfin and Indis could be heard from inside the room.

“Nelyo and lady Indis had a disagreement over her status as an unwed mother, which ended with Nelyo throwing something at her before storming off. Arafinwë is currently showing why that old saying “beware the nice ones” is very true,” explained Nerdanel in a whisper, as Indis said out loudly:

“ _…not proper of a royal princess to behave like that! If that is how the mother acts, then her son might not be in the best environment to grow up healthily…_ ”

Like most Vanyarin She-elves who were pious like herself, Indi was a firm believer that getting properly married and having children was the natural way for the Eldar. Thus, she was placing herself as one of the people who were the most opposed to Maedhros being an unwed mother.      

“ _Russafinwë needs to stay with his mother, ammë! Nelyo would never harm a child born from her own body! Please don't take out your old bitterness over Fëanáro's behaviour on his children and grandchildren, or you will just show yourself being a hypocrite…and Nelyo needs her son, he is the main part of a healing that she desperately needs after Angband! When the War of Wraith was finally over…at the time of her death, she…Nelyo was actually Fading! From both the Oath and from what the Dark Lord had done to her in Angband!_”

Judging from the way Indis answered, she was actually shocked over what her youngest son just had said.

“ _Don't talk back to your own mother like that, Arafinwë Ingoldo Finwion! Your oldest brother and law-sister should never have let Nelyafinwë be raised in that much freedom as she had and still have; it has given her unnatural behaviours for a royal princess! And her son is even more uncouth when it comes to being a great-grandson to the High King of the Noldor!_ ” 

Or rather, by the simple fact that he was speaking against her in such a tone, especially as Finarfin was the gentlest and kindest of Finwë's three sons, he was showing unnatural restraint over his rising anger, it nonetheless showed he was extremely annoyed by his mother's denseness:  

“ _Do you want to force me into use_ _Ósanwë to grant you a look of how Nelyo really looked like in the War of Wraith, mother?! Or shall I call on Findekáno and order him to tell you, into the tiniest detail, of what truly happened when he freed Nelyo?_ ” 

Celebrimbor quickly moved his hands to cover Rûsa's ears. There was no need for his cousin to hear an argument that partly was about him. And it really would not do him any good to hear people talk about Maedhros' ill health from the last years of her past life.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Outside the palace, Ingwë had brought Maedhros to a private spot in one of his favourite cafés in Alqualondë. Requesting two large cups of tea, along with some honey-filled buns, Ingwë asked her to tell what exactly had happened in the disagreement with Indis.

“…after that, I ran out to the breach. Her words…they…reminded me of what people outside my followers would say back in the First Age. Whispers…that I and my brothers held no right to be heirs to the crown after the First Kinslaying…that we were cursed…that I secretly had became a servant of Morgoth during my time in Angband and that my brothers soon would follow…and then her words about that I was not a good mother to Rûsa just because of that I am not married to his father…”

Maedhros supported her head in one hand with the elbow against the wooden table, not caring if Ingwë saw her crying. To be seen as a bad mother, hurt far more than she ever would confess, along with the pain of knowing that she never had been able to save Rûsa from Angband just because of that she had been tricked into believing that he had been killed at birth.

“Nelyafinwë…let me tell you that I do not see you as a bad mother just because of that your union with Russafinwë's father is annulled, even if there is others among my people who disagrees with me in that. Rather, whatever the reason, you both chose to do what was best for your son. If anything, you should know yourself how it is to grow up in a broken family…”  
Maedhros could only nod, remembering what had happened between her parents back in the Years of the Trees. And with the fact that Taurion had loved Atara all along, a marriage between them would not give Rûsa the happy family he deserved after his nightmarish first life as a slave in Angband.    

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Later, at the informal family lunch in the dinner room where it was served different kinds of seafood, it was pretty much impossible not to feel the hostile atmosphere between Maedhros, Indis and Finarfin.

“I don't think we ever have seen Atar like this before…” whispered Orodreth to Angrod, who nodded in silent agreement. It was very serious to see the even-tempered Finarfin in such a bad mood, Indis could lose her temper at times when someone crossed a line for her and such was something that was not completely unexpected, while the Sons of Fëanor and their different cousins made a clear point of trying to give Maedhros as much space they could do at the table, fearing that she would unleash another one of her terrifying mood swings.

“Ammë, can I have more of that pear pudding, please?” asked Rûsa when the dessert was almost finished. Maedhros answered with taking a new spoonful of the pudding and feeding it to her son. Letting Rûsa enjoying the taste, Maedhros faked a light cough to catch the attention of her family.

“Seeing that _certain persons_ here seem to not want me or my son around other people just because of my social status, Rûsa and I will return to Formenos with the Wood clan now after lunch.”

“ _What?!_ ”

There was an outrage of protests all around the table against her decision, but Maedhros refused to change her mind. Swooping up Rûsa, who did not dare to say any protests at seeing how serious his mother was, in her arms to carry him to their guest rooms so they would get the packed travel bags and then leave the palace.

“Ammë, Atar, my brothers, law-sisters and Telpërinquar. See you back home in Formenos around the start of next month.”

With that, Maedhros almost slammed the door shut.

_Slam!_

Nobody dared to move or say something the first moments of shock. Then Fingolfin broke the silence:

“Really well done, mother. The first real family meeting in over three years since that poisoning attempt in Tirion and you just had to ruin it with your ill-chosen words about Nelyo being a single mother?”

Indis opened her mouth to protest, but nearly everyone sent her a cold glare as to warn her from saying anything. Not even Finwë, who normally agreed with her in things like this, said something in defence of his second wife and instead tried to avoid her pleading eyes by focusing on the remaining wine in his glass.      


	22. A parent's worst fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros has one of the worst fears a parent can have

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: this chapter contains a serious dose of parental fears and hints of prejudices

Two days later, at dinner:

“Queen Indis really said that straight to your face?! And had the nerve of speaking badly about Rûsa too?”

All around Maedhros, members of the Wood clan started to mutter and whisper to each other. Not anything bad about her, but rather what they thought about what Maedhros just had revealed as the main reason to why she and Rûsa had left Alqualondë so suddenly without the rest of her family.   

“Bloody Vanyar…going here and think that she can tell such things to one of the Elves who survived the longest against…”

“Watch your language around the kids, brats!” snapped Atara, waving dangerously with the soup ladle to show her point. Rûsa was not the only Elfling sitting around the dinner pots, so the mutterings quickly stopped.

“But really…lady Indis did indeed put more wood on the fire with her words. If she now feels that it is amoral for you to be an unwed mother, Maedhros, why has she not spoken with you about it before? Mentioned it in a letter or another kind of message over the last three years?”

“That, Taurion, is pretty much exactly what I am wondering myself,” answered Maedhros before she put the soup bowl to her lips and drank up the last part of the chicken soup. At her side, Rûsa mirrored his mother with his own bowl.

“I love this Tom kha kai soup,” said Rûsa in very clear happiness as he licked his lips, trying to catch the taste for as long as he could. The comment earned him several pleased smiles from the cooks who had made the dinner. Then, when Rûsa attempted to drink of the last new drops of the soup, he leaned back a little too much and ended up tripping over on his back.

“Rûsa, don't play with the food,” said Maedhros somewhat absentminded, focused as she was on talking with Taurion over Indis' behaviour.

“I am not playing, ammë.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Later that night, when nearly everyone had gone to bed, Rûsa had almost fallen asleep when he suddenly heard a movement from where his mother's bed roll were in the tent. It was Maedhros, who turned out to not have changed into her night robe yet and instead was putting her boots back on her feet before leaving the tent.

“Where is she going?”

It was not usual for his mother to leave the tent like that, at least from what he knew. A quiet, almost questionable whine came from Snowflake, as she had raised her head at the sound of Maedhros leaving. Rûsa patted Snowflake on her head as he sat up.

“No, Snowflake. We will not cause any trouble now after bedtime, just…checking what ammë is going. She has been both sad and angry the last three days, ever since queen Indis said those mean things to her.” 

It would take too long time to dress into his clothes again, so Rûsa only took on his socks and boots. He also took up a ball of yarn, tying one end around one of the tent pegs so he would find the right tent again in case he got lost. It was not uncommon among Elflings since all the tents looked almost exactly the same in the night.

“Sch, Snowflake! Don't bark!”

With Snowflake's help, it did not take long for Rûsa to find Maedhros. He heard her talking to someone, perhaps one of the night guards, as it clearly was not Taurion's voice.

“…you did right in leaving with Rûsa, lady Maedhros. When some of lord Taurion's other children were in Alqualondë two days ago on the morning to buy seafood to have on our travel, they…overheard some Vanyarin nobles talk about you two. That the reason to why you never mention Rûsa's father, is…that he is fathered by either one of your six brothers or lord Fëanor himself…”

“What?! But…that's…that's impossible! Every Eldar knows that such close relationships are forbidden! Not to mention that it is forbidden to have two spouses at the same time, and my royal grandfather Finwë was only allowed to remarry after grandmother Miriel chose to remain in the Halls of Mandos! And people wonder why I rarely allow Rûsa leave Formenos…”

Rûsa did not hear anything more of what his mother spoke, for he suddenly rushed away, horror filling his whole body over what he just had heard.

“Whose there? No…Rûsa!! Rûsa, where are you going?!”

Maedhros' voice, horrified at realizing that her son had overheard what she just had spoken of, echoed in the camp as Rûsa vanished into the darkness of the night.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“Get away from him!” hissed one of the female Vanyarin nobles as she almost tore away her daughter from_ _Rûsa, just as he handed the golden-haired girl a marble to shoot, at seeing his dark red hair among the small gathering of children that was playing in the palace garden as per Olwë's permission. Despite the girl's protests that they were only playing with marbles, the mother refused to let her go back to playing._

_“No innocent child of mine will be seen around the impure spawn of a Fëanorian_ _Kinslayer!”_

_Then, seeing that the other children had stopped playing out of confusion over her strange words, she tried to make them go away from Rûsa too. When Rûsa asked her why she did this, the Vanyarin She-elf_ _responded with shoving him away and he nearly fell, had not a steady clump of reeds against his back stopped his fall._

_“Hey! Don't call my second-cousin or his mother that sort of words! Have not the Valar requested bygones be bygones when it comes to the House of great-uncle Fëanor and his children?” yelled Saira as she were quick to stand in front of Rûsa, her arms outstretched as if protecting Rûsa from being shoved again. The Vanyarin noblewoman snorted, giving Rûsa a_ _frosty look as if he was nothing else than a dirty insect on her shoes._

_“The child of a Kinslayer will always be tainted by the parent's sin, especially one without a named father! Born here in the Undying lands, perhaps, but still the spawn of a Kinslayer mother and descendant of a cursed House!”_

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa cried bitterly without any control over his tears as he ran, not seeing where he was running. He knew about the Kinslayings and other events in the First Age, how could he not know his own family's history thanks to master Rumil's patience and lessons? Not to mention his own past as the Warg Rider. And yet it did hurt so horrible much. In his mind, Rûsa could hear the mocking laughter of both Morgoth and Sauron, their voices telling him that he was a fool for even believing that he would be accepted in Aman.

“ _Why? Why?! WHY!? Why does all of this have to happen every time we leave our sanctuary in Formenos!? Why can't my family ever be free from their past sins and show that they regret their actions?! Why do questions about my presence always have to cause ammë some sort of grief when people ask why she is not wed to ada Taurion and why I even was begotten in the first place if their marriage was going to be annulled anyway!? Why does people nearly always reject me just because of who my maternal family is?! Why…_”

Because of that he was crying so much, Rûsa were not playing attention to the surroundings. And in the dark, it was even harder to see where to go. Without warning, Rûsa suddenly tripped over a tree root. Unfortunately, that also happened to be straight in front of a small ravine that was unseen in the night darkness. With a cry of surprise, Rûsa lost his balance and fell down into the ravine. The hard earth and rocks tore up abrasions on his arms and legs, small and bloody wounds were torn up in his fingers and palms when he tried to grab something to stop his falling.

“AMMË, AMMË!! HELP!!”  

The blood on his palms made Rûsa lose his grip on the slippery rock, and with a terrified scream he fell towards the ravine's bottom.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“Poor big brother Rûsa really needs a break from the ladies now when people starts realizing that he will come of age in just a few months, don't you think so too, little brother?”_

_Rûsa awoke with a start, sitting up. He looked around in confusion, before seeing that he was home in Formenos. But something felt different. A quick look on his hands and lower body, revealed that of a ner almost fully grown, as if close to the 100 th Begetting-day when they would come of age. What was going on? _

_“Hey, big brother!”_

_A pair of small arms were thrown around his neck, without choking him, and a small body landed similarly quickly in his lap._

_“Ai, take it easily, you two! I just woke up from my nap,” laughed Rûsa as he got a kiss on his cheek from the Elfling behind him, now recognized who they were: The two older of his three younger half-siblings. The absence of the youngest half-sibling, hardly more than 18 months old since her begetting_ _in the fall from the year before, meant that she must be inside the house with their mother._

_“You fell asleep in the middle of making the betrothal necklace to your future bride-to-be, brother Rûsa. And no wonder, we all three fell asleep in this spring heat, one would think that it is already summer.” said the oldest of Rûsa's younger half-sisters from his back, as she had her lips close to his ear. The little half-brother in his lap had yet not said a word, instead he was determined to start climbing up along the older brother's robe, wanting a hug from Rûsa. As Rûsa tried to make room for his little brother, he raised his chin a bit so his sister could start braiding the dark red, long hair on his back._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“…Rûsa? Rûsa, can you hear me?”

Rûsa opened his eyes, awakening from the pain in his head. It was all dark around him, but a lit candle on a bedside table revealed Narvi's familiar face. She was standing over him, dressed in nothing else than her night clothes, looking both worried and a little relieved that he had awaken.

“Narvi…? Where…?”

“You are in the _living_ quarters of the Halls of the Forefathers, lad, you fell into a ravine that is one of our secret entrances. You really gave the night guards a good fright when you fell into one of our tunnels, it is not everyday that we are having a child of the Firstborn finding us like that.”

Rûsa tried to move his head, but was stopped when a sharp pain shot thought his head and he felt like he would faint.

“Lie still, you have a concussion of the brain after the fall and your limbs needed to be bandaged, injured as you were.”

Narvi checked on the bandages, before she rose from the chair she had been sitting in.

“Ammë…the Wood clan…” Rûsa tried to say in a whisper from the bed, hoping that Narvi would understand that Maedhros was with the Wood clan. It seemed like she understood what he had been attempting to tell her, for the Dwarrowdam nodded before she went just outside the door and spoke with another Dwarf in Khuzdul that Rûsa had awoken and that his Amad likely was with the Wood clan, so could someone please send a message bird or a rider with the news to lady Maedhros so she could stop being frantic with worry for her son?

“ ** _Makes me wonder what could have caused the young lad to run away from his folk, hm?_** ”

“ ** _It does not matter right now. At this moment, the most important thing is to let him rest and return to his Amad when he can move without being dizzy from the concussion he got in the fall,_** ” answered Narvi and shooed the other Dwarf away. She would keep watch over Rûsa until that Maedhros arrived, and had brought some of her scrolls with her where she had written down what she remembered from when she and Celebrimbor had built the Doors of Durin back in the Second Age in a attempt to keep herself awake until then.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By pure luck, the Wood clan happened to actually not be too far away from where the underground Halls of the Forefathers were. At being awakened by Maedhros' and the guards' fanatic cries that Rûsa had gone missing after running away from the camp, most of the Avari Elves in the Wood clan had hurried to get dressed and hurrying out to help searching for him. Even here in Aman where they were safe, old fears from Middle-earth that an Elfling could be killed by one of Morgoth's monsters if the Elfling went astray from the camp in the middle of the night, still remained. As most people could understand, so was Maedhros nearly frantic with worry for her missing son, blaming herself for not ensuring that Rûsa really had been asleep before leaving the tent about two hours ago.  

“It is all my fault…how could I make such a beginner's mistake in being a parent after training on all my younger relatives….what if he is injured,unconscious so he can't hear us calling for him?!”

“Maedhros, Maedhros, please…calm down, we will find Rûsa, I promise.” pleaded Taurion. He and Atara tried to help Maedhros stop worrying so much that something had happened to Rûsa. He was worried as well, and hoped that they soon would find the missing Elfling so their worries as parents would go away. At the same time, some riders returned to the camp after having searched for Rûsa in the larger aera around.

“Is that not one of Lord Aulë's Children?” wondered Nuin, Taurion's first son and oldest baseborn child born from an Sindarin mother, when he spotted something from his horse just as he was about to dismount and saw in the distance that it was a Dwarf riding on a pony.

“Oh yes, Lord Durin himself! What is he doing out here this late in the night?” said Maedhros when she saw her old friend come riding.

“A good late evening to you all, seeing that it is way past the twilight, my nomadic friends. Pardon me if I arrive at a bad timing, but about one and a half hour ago we happened to get an unexpected young visitor into the Halls of the Forefathers. A young lad that happens to be yours, lady Maedhros.”

“Rûsa! Where is he?! Is he harmed, or is he all right?!” asked Maedhros, already feeling a little less worried at hearing that Rûsa was safe with the Dwarves in the Halls of the Forefathers.

“Apart from a minor fall into a ravine that earned the lad a concussion of the brain, a sprained ankle, possibly one or two broken ribs, wounds in the hands from a desperate attempt to stop his fall and bruises on both arms and legs, he is fine. I offered myself to go and get you to the Halls once I got word from Narvi that young Rûsa had woken up.”

Maedhros had paled a bit at hearing how Rûsa had gotten himself injured, but pushed down those feelings at knowing that her son was alive. Snowflake sniffed on Maedhros' hand and pawed carefully on her boot, gently asking the tall _nis_ if they could go and get her young owner.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa knew that he was in deep trouble for running away from the camp like he had done, and tried to prepare himself mentally for the angry scolding both of his parents was very likely to give him when they arrived. The thought of having disappointed Maedhros and Taurion like that along with worrying them so, made him feel hollow and empty inside. What kind of ungrateful son, younger brother, nephew, cousin and grandson was he really? Acting like that when both sides of his large family did everything in their powers to ensure that his past as the Warg Rider remained hidden from people?

“Rûsa? What is wrong? Do you need something against the pain?” asked Narvi when she saw that he was crying.

“N-no…!” Rûsa whimpered in answer, not even trying to stop his crying as the faint, almost soundless steps of two Elves could be heard outside the door. This was it. If his parents were going to disown him because of this, it would be impossible to blame them. The door was opened.

“Good thing that you could come that fast, Maedhros, but I think that Rûsa is terrified at your anger at the moment,” whispered Narvi with a nod towards the Elfling in the bed. As Maedhros bent over the bed so mother and son saw each other in the eyes, Rûsa was truly trembling in fear for what she would do and therefore shut his eyes so he would not have to look on her.

“Rûsa…”

Maedhros' voice was soft, with no hint of anger, just sadness and half-hidden fear over how close she had been to lose him. Rûsa began to cry anew when she carefully touched his cheek and then, ignoring how much his body was hurting, Rûsa threw himself into Maedhros' arms with a high wail of distress.

“Don't ever scare me and Taurion like that again, Russafinwë…” pleaded Maedhros softly as she held her son, letting him cry against her.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Yes, it is indeed either a vision or dream about his future half-siblings Rûsa had while being unconscious. As for him not giving a better description of them or their names, well…that would count as a serious spoiler for the third part of this saga and the second sequel to Painful Meetings, don't you agree? ;) As for the Khuzdul Narvi used, Amad means Mother in Neo Khuzdul


	23. Warning signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saira comes a little too close to find out about Rûsa's birth by mistake

Year 26 of the Fourth Age, late spring in Formenos:

“Watch out, good people!”

A few Noldor Elves had to hurry aside as Snowflake, now fully grown, ran along the street while pulling a small carriage that the soon-to-be 16-year-old Rûsa was driving. He was helping some of the adults work on a new stable at the southern part of Formenos, and had gotten the task of bringing bound bundles of reeds for the roof from the local lake.

“Hi, Rûsa! Can we get a chance to hang out in the carriage when you are done with the reeds?” called another Elfling where some of the other Elflings in Formenos were playing ball together.

“I will have to ask the adults first, can't jump off the work yet!” laughed Rûsa in answer just before Snowflake rounded a corner of a house and his younger friends vanished from sight as he went onwards.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Maedhros and Rog were enjoying a ride together. After the stormy quarrel with Indis last summer, Maedhros had all but openly ignored her step-grandmother because of the sore points the argument had torn up in her heart. The rest of the House of Fëanor, also feeling insulted on Maedhros' behalf over Indis' not thought out words about Maedhros' and Rûsa's social status, had been quick to follow that lead.

“What a wonderful day! No duties, no work to be done, no friends or family members who are trying to spy on us…just the two of us.” smiled Rog and bent over from his horse to kiss Maedhros. She giggled like a young girl, then rode ahead of him.

“Catch me if you can!”

Rog laughed at her words, letting Maedhros get a bit ahead before he started to follow her. He had moved to Formenos in the past autumn, a few weeks following the masquerade ball where he had revealed himself for her, feeling that was better to court her properly in the open now when she knew who her secret admirer was.

“Trying to outrun me, Maitimo?”   

“No, just showing you that I am not easy prey to catch!”

They might only have been courting for about eight or nine months, but it was already showing on Maedhros that she was in love. Deeply in love. Back in the First Age, she had been too broken by the torture in Angband, the believed death of the newborn Rûsa and the endless grief of losing family members in the war against Morgoth to even think about romance. Yet now Maedhros was shining with happiness and joy every time she and Rog was together.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“Rûsa? Come here, honey, I want you to meet someone,” called Maedhros from the floor below. Rûsa, who had been busy in training on making drawings, took the change of a break when it was offered. His mother had mentioned earlier that her secret admirer wished to reveal himself for her family, and why not start with Rûsa as the secret admirer was a possible stepfather for him._

_“Yes, ammë?” wondered Rûsa_ _curiously when he arrived at the end of the stairs. Maedhros, who had been standing in front of the sofa, moved aside so Rûsa could see the male Elf who was sitting there. Rûsa noticeably tried not to smile too brightly in a joyful surprise when he saw that it was the dark-skinned male Elf who had defended his mother along with master Rumil in Tirion._

_“Sweetheart, this is Rog, one of the former Lords of Gondolin. I don't know if the two of you has met by chance before during the time that we have left Formenos, but he is the secret admirer of mine who has sent those mysterious gifts to me for all those years.” explained Maedhros with a smile. Remembering his manners, that his maternal family had fought so hard to put in him in despite the fact of having lived in Angband for all of his first life, Rûsa put one foot back and made a light bow._

_“Mai omentaina, lord Rog.”_

_He remembered Maeglin's words about Rog, her descriptions about the Lord of the House of the Hammer of Wraith, along with all the gifts Rog has sent to Maedhros over the last 14 years that he had been reborn. Thus, Rûsa felt that he should try and get along with Rog for his mother's sake._

_“The same to you, young Rûsa.”_

_Instead of being formal like most others of Maedhros' past suitors, Rog hoped to make Rûsa feel comfortable around him. After all, it would not go to become his stepfather and have a similar relationship as Fëanor and Indis._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In one of the public gardens of Formenos, Maglor and Rainiel were enjoying a new song that Maglor was playing on his harp. It was just a test, and the song did not have lyrics yet, but it was still pleasant to listen on it.

“Now, all we need is…”

“ **AAAAAAAAAAH!! SPIDER!!!** ”

Suddenly there was a scream of terror coming from somewhere, likely from the small yard a bit away, and they caught a look of Rûsa just as he ran past the garden.

“He is 603 years old mentally in the body of a 15-year-old Elfling, of course no one is wondering why he might scream like a little girl at the sight of a common little spider…oh, how I really wish that Finrod had beaten Sauron in that song duel as payback…!!” commented Maglor in a low voice for himself and held tightly on his silver harp while Rûsa quickly took cover up in a tree, climbing as high up to the top as he could. The House of Fëanor had learnt early about Rûsa's arachnophobia after his rebirth when a normal and harmless little spider on the kitchen floor had sent Rûsa into a screaming fit of pure terror, and he attempted to get as far away from the spider as he could. He had refused to let go of Maedhros' leg for the next two following hours, forcing her to almost drag him along over the floor as she walked.  

“Rûsa? When you have calmed down again, feel free to join us down here for a nice piece of lemon pie,” offered Rainiel with a smile as she tried to catch a glimpse of him somewhere in the tall tree among the green leaves, knowing how well Rûsa loved the fruit and berry pies that Rainiel would do at times. They could see Rûsa's dark red braid move as he moved his head at the sound of her voice. A quick nod in thanks, but he clearly did not trust himself to come down really yet.   

“Beloved, do you want a piece of pie?”

Maglor hid a sly smile; Rainiel trying to attract down their nephew from the tree with him as the bait was most amusing.

“Yes, my sweet lady wife.”

Rainiel feed him a piece of lemon pie. Making a clear show of how much he enjoyed the pie, Maglor glanced over his shoulder to see if Rûsa would come down. That he did in a very fast manner, his black eyes behind the grey eye-veil fully set on the lemon pie between his uncle and aunt by marriage.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Tirion, things were going on as well. But for Finwë, it was not a normal day of kingly work. No, he had dismissed all court meetings for the day at breakfast and requested to be left alone in his study. The reason? The many reports lying in front on him on the writing desk. Several of them were newly-made copies from parchments dating back to the First Age, requested from the large archives in the royal library.

“Strange…where is it? Where is the full report of Nelyo's health once she had recovered from being saved by Findekáno, and the following ones made on Nolo's request? I am sure that it should be here…”

Earlier that morning, Finwë's attention had been caught by reading something in more detail from the report of how Maedhros had given up the Kingship of the Noldor to Fingolfin:

_…for my inability to birth offspring from my own body…_

Ten words. Ten simple words that had caught his eye. Because his family tended to keep their mouths tightly sealed about what really had happened to Maedhros in Angband -- outside the fact that Fingon had been forced to cut off her right hand to free her and that she had taken about a whole year to recover from the captivity -- Finwë were still kept literally in the dark about his oldest grandchild's living nightmare in that hell.

“But seriously! Surely that report can't have been lost in the First Age thanks to the many wars against the Dark Enemy? Not something like that of such important…”

Because of how vulnerable the three Houses of Finwë's sons had been in Middle-earth, mainly in a notable short line of offspring as many of his grandsons died without leaving heirs of their own blood, Fingolfin had very carefully requested his children and all of their cousins to send annual reports on their physical health. Much to Fingolfin's and now Finwë's own surprise, the House of Fëanor had actually obeyed that request from their uncle.

“I have all the reports about the health of my firstborn son's six boys here, but where is _Nelyo's_ health report?”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The puzzled Finwë could not have known in that confusing moment as he searched for Maedhros' health report it currently happened to be in the small hands of Saira, all because she had an all-female family history lesson with some of the other women in the Noldorin royal family.  

“…I will never forget that first shock of mine when Idril explained in more detail why the female healers had examined me and asked how many years had gone since I had my first monthly cycle…” mumbled Maeglin for herself in slight embarrassment as she checked thought the layers of her own old health report. At her side, Idril only smiled.

“Poor cousin Maeglin. I am glad that we don't have that rule here in Aman now when everyone is back,” said Saira in a quiet voice, looking up from what she was reading about in Aredhel's health report. She called nearly everyone of the adults “cousin” even if they were not first-cousins to her like Finduilas and Celebrian, as a sign of respect for the elder family members.  

“On the other hand, it is hard to not blame great-uncle Fingolfin for starting those reports. If all the male heirs were killed off, then it was well-needed to know if a female line could be started…” said Finduilas in a hesitant voice, using the Sindarin names out of habit from her old life. Celebrian nodded in agreement, remembering that her husband Elrond was the descendant of both Thingol and Turgon in a female line from their only daughters.  

“And the only reason why uncle Turgon ever was given the crown before Gil-galad at uncle Fingon's death was because of how young Gil-galad was at his father's passing, only 22 years old,” commented Maeglin without looking up from what she was reading.

“39 years might not be much, but it still freed our cousin from the burdens of Kingship for a little longer until that he was 61 years old at least…yes, Saira?”

Saira had been tugging on Idril's sleeve, holding up a page in Maedhros' old health report.

“Cousin Idril, what does this mean? I can't read what it says, the uneven handwriting of this healer is almost impossible to read.”

Bending down a bit, Idril took a closer look on what the text read:

_Cause of_ _infertility: Serious damage to womb and ruined capability to a monthly cycle because of torture and extreme_ _starvation, weak signs of having undergone possible pregnancy (?) in captivity _

Maeglin, who had been looking over Idril's shoulder, paled when she saw the underline text that hinted about Maedhros giving birth to Rûsa in Angband and was quick in grabbing Maedhros' health report from Saira before closing it.

“That text is a little too…adult and complex for you at the moment, Saira. I am not saying that you are stupid, but you are a little too young for reading that text currently,“ Maeglin forced herself to say with a strained smile. While the others gave her a couple of odd looks, they did not question her actions. After all, Maedhros' time in Angband was still a taboo to speak about in the family.

“Hm…can't you tell me how your courtships went? Please?” asked Saira, understanding that it was best to change subject. Right away, her female family friends started to describe their own courtship. All expect for Maeglin, who had opened Maedhros' old health report again and now was checking though the full text on the page that Saira had shown earlier.

_Not good…if someone looks deeper into this, they will find out the truth about Rûsa's birth! I have to send this to lady Maedhros in Formenos to avoid that from happening!_  

If this information got into the wrong hands before the right time to reveal his past life in Angband, Rûsa risked being destroyed to the very core of his heart and soul, all because of his past as the Warg Rider.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By now, Maedhros and Rog had returned from their ride outside Formenos. Dismissing and letting two stable grooms take care of the horses, the pair went to see where Rûsa had went.

“I have to ensure that he does not feel that he is being neglected in your favour. While Rûsa can deal with me not having attention to him all day, he is still a little sensitive when it comes to…being away from me for too long.”

Maedhros had to choose her words carefully, it would not do her son any favour if a hint of his past life were done. Of course, she could not know that Rog already knew a bit about Rûsa's past life as the Warg Rider.

“Fair point, since everyone knows the basic story of how things went with your young father's feelings over the High King's new marriage to queen Indis. And anything that could hint to it happening again in the generation of prince Fëanor's own grandchildren…by the Valar, I don't even want to imagine what sort of rumours that could start!” said Rog in agreement; because of his high age, he remembered how things had been back then and how it had driven the Noldor into two parts, the supporters for the new royal marriage and those who believed that Fëanor's mother Miriel was the only rightful queen of the Noldor.

“Ammë! Ammë, look what I just have gotten from aunt Astarë and uncle Curvo!” called Rûsa cheerfully as he ran over to them, one of his small arms holding a bowl with freshly baked fruit-muffins and a half-eaten one in Rûsa's free hand.   

“Oh, someone has gotten himself some free food again,” joked Rog with a laugh while Maedhros facepalmed. She knew that her son had every right to be spoiled by his family members given how he had grown up in the First Age, but at times she mentally wondered how much they should spoil him. On the other hand, Maedhros could not refuse when Rûsa handed her and Rog a muffin each.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Rûsa's greeting to Rog in Old Quenya can be found on realelvish dot net. And Nolo is meant to be a short term/nickname for Nolofinwë, the Quenya father-name of Fingolfin


	24. A flower of love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is in the air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: I suggest that you listen to the Instrumental version of “Can You Feel The Love Tonight” from the Lion King while reading this chapter, dear readers. The reason? A very special scene

Year 29 in the Fourth Age, summer time in Tirion:

Because of that it was the Flower of Love festival, one of the most important festivals for the Avari Elves that happened every spring and summer, Finwë and his whole family had been invited to watch the sacred dance that the unwed Avari Elves of both gender danced in hope of catching the attention of someone special. From her own seat cushion, Maedhros gave a warning glare to one of Indis' most pious ladies-in-waiting as she made a disapproving expression over the rather revealing clothes that the dancers wore.

“One single word about their dance outfits being improper and I will throw my wine in your face!” warned Maedhros in a low hissing, half-raising her wine goblet as proof of her words. Around her, she could see that many of her family members were watching the dance.

“Look, it is almost time for the final!”

Among the Second-born, the race of Men, this sort of dance would eventually be known as belly dance. But for the Avari Elves, it was a sacred dance of love where you put on all your feelings of love against a special person.

“Half-makes me almost wish that we had this sort of custom as well among our people…” whispered Fëanor to Nerdanel as the dancers moved to gather together. Rûsa, who was sitting in his mother's lap, eagerly followed the dance and music rhyme with his hands, not clapping but silently opening and closing them. Maedhros let him do that, knowing that it was his way of showing how much he liked the dance.

“And there is the final part of the dance.”

The music went wilder, more bolder now as the dancers moved apart. Ten of them, both male and female dancers, revealed themselves to be holding a beautiful tiara in the shape of a fully-bloomed water lily made out of diamonds in their hands. Those tiaras were the most highly coveted prize among the dancers, since it was so few of them made for each Flower of Love festival; only ten per fifty dancers, and since they held a very special meaning for unwed Avari Elves, it was no surprise that many tried their best to get their hands on one tiara. Fighting was strictly forbidden, as well attempting to ruin someone else's dance, so if you wanted a tiara, you had to be fast as a snake and try to place yourself as close to the tiaras as you could.

“I wonder which persons will get the honor of being crowned as the Kings and Queens of Love this evening?” Maedhros wondered, smiling as she tried to spot Rog somewhere among the dancers. Rog was not the only dark-skinned Elf with white hair here, so it was a little hard to see who was who in the many colourful dance outfits.

“I would not be surprised if you are one of them, ammë,” whispered Rûsa in answer, as it was improper to talk loudly during the dance.

“Oh, look. Seems like one of us might be chosen.”

One of the male dancers made graceful movements towards where the Noldorin royal family was sitting. With the silk veil covering the face below his eyes, it was impossible to guess who he was. But he held a tiara in his hands, hinting that he might try and choose a lady among the sitting watchers to crown as his Queen of Love. Then, in one swift movement, he crowned Maedhros with the water lily tiara.

“Pardon me, grandma,” said Rûsa as he climbed over to Nerdanel's lap while Maedhros was gently pulled up on her feet by the male dancer, before he brought her along into the dance.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Soon the music was finished, and the dancers made a dancing bow.

“Clearly, this was indeed something different from the Noldorin customs,” said Finwë during the applause for the dancers' fine performable.

“But I find it strange that Nelyo and that dancer vanished,” muttered Indis to herself, partially hiding her face with the hair veil she was wearing as a sharp contrast to her husband in his less formal robes.

“There is no need to worry about that, great-grandmother. The crowned Kings and Queens of Love will only be given some extra special attention by the dancers who chose them. And no, _not_ in that kind of way since a bonding would result in marriage…what?” Maeglin grinned, hiding her irritation from Indis.

“It is not like I am wearing a really thin, translucent fabric without underwear.”

She completely ignored the fact that she was wearing the same form-fitted top, form-fitting hip belt and full-length skirt as the other female Avari dancers. From the cover of sitting in Nerdanel's lap, Rûsa could not help but blush at seeing Maeglin in those clothes. Personally in his adult mind, he found them much more attractive than the strictly covered Noldorin dresses where showing of a bit of her neckline was as daring as a noble-born Noldor lady could do. In fact, despite that his new body was that of a 19-year-old Elfling, Rûsa seriously found himself repulsed at the many layers that Noldorin and Vanyarin She-elves wore to protect their decency and as a sign of being chaste. The old slave part of his mind just could not understand the idea of so many layers of clothing.

“Ah…there is no need to disagree with each other over what you have chosen to wear tonight, Lómiel. This evening is meant to enjoy ourselves,” pleaded Finwë in an attempt to stop the possible fight already in its infancy. Maeglin held back an angry snarl at her great-grandmother before turning around on her bare heel and left. Lucky, Finwë and Indis quickly got something else to focus on, since new drinks and snacks were handed out.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maedhros had been led away from the dance and now found herself in front of a small, moonlit waterfall that seemed to shine like silver in the light from the full moon.   

“My! It is beautiful…,” whispered Maedhros in wonder, looking around on the small candles in different soft colours, lit to give the waterfall more colour. Taking off the face veil, Rog kissed her on the cheek.

“Thank you, it took some planning to ensure that your boy did not find out ahead.”

Maedhros laughed, knowing well howcurious Rûsa could be at times. The more open he became in his personality, the harder it sometimes could be to keep him from learning about something too early.

“Do you want some apple cider?”

“Yes please. Really, I fail to see why not more of Haru Finwë's court here in Tirion likes this cider. It is one of the Wood clan's finest offers from their main camp…”

“Same here. Refusing to drink the cider when you are being offered is like openly insulting their skills in cider-making.”

They drank a little of the apple cider in a set of fine glasses, from a shared bottle. Maedhros enjoyed the taste of elderflower on the tongue, it gave the apple cider some extra character in her favour. Rog had even got his hands on some of Maedhros' favourite cardamom cookies for her.   

“Look at the full moon, beloved. So bright tonight…”

Indeed it was. A perfect night for the Flower of Love festivals that only happened at nights with a full moon. Suddenly Rog rose to his feet and helped Maedhros to stand up. In his hand, she could feel a thin string under her fingers.

“Start pulling on the string, my beloved Ruby.”

Maedhros did so. Within a few minutes, a large water lily leaf was being pulled towards the shore where they were. When the leaf came closer, Maedhros put a hand over her mouth in surprise:

A traditional Avari betrothal necklace, a unique design carved from a gemstone and fastened to a choker, was laying on the leaf together with two traditional betrothal rings. The eight-rayed design of the Fëanorian star had been carved from a emerald especially to fit with Maedhros' colours.

“Rog…!”

Maedhros now found herself face-to-face with Rog, who held her face between his hands. There was a truly tender, loving look in his amber eyes.   

“ ** _When I look into your eyes, I can see a reflection of the two of us and the life I hope we'll share together. Nelyafinwë Maitimo Fëanoriel, do you give me the honor of having your hand in marriage?_** ”

Instead of answering right away, Maedhros hooked one of Rog's legs with her own foot and caused him to fall back in the grass with her above him. It seemed like Rog did not mind, by the way he smiled.

“I think you already know my answer on that, beloved, with the way you have loved me for so long, long before I knew it myself.”

“I had planned to proposal tonight, even without a water lily crown.”

Their lips met in a tender kiss.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“If…I may say how I feel about it, so do I think that our boy will need you more, lady Maedhros. You are the parent with the strongest bond to_ _Rûsa, the one he will know the most since I killed myself so soon after that he was begotten…”_

_Maedhros nodded without saying anything. She and Taurion needed to agree on how to do with their son, especially as he soon would leave the Halls of Mandos for the Path of Rebirth alongside his legal wife Atara and their two daughters. She knew that Taurion would adopt all of his fifteen baseborn children as true members of the Wood clan he was the chieftain of, but out of all the fifteen She-elves who had borne those children, Maedhros was the only one who actually wanted her son. The other mothers saw their half-Avari children as an eternal reminder of the horrors in Angband, and thus refused to have anything with the children or even be reborn._

_“I will not hold Rûsa away or forbid you to see him when he is reborn. You are his father, and thus holds a right to him as well. A child needs both of the parents to be happy.”_

_“Bless the Valar for your wisdom, lady Maedhros, created from sorrow as it may be! Yes…both Rûsa and yourself will need each other, torn apart so cruelly as you were, so soon after his birth.”_

_Taurion's voice were soft, but his sadness and grief could still be_ _heard. They had never been given a chance to raise Rûsa in the First Age, but once all three of them were reborn, things would be different. This time, Rûsa would be surrounded by loving and caring family members, the life in freedom he never had when living as a slave in Angband._

_“It will be a long and difficult road, but I am sure that he will be able to surpass it. He is not a survivor for nothing.”_

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“Uuuuuncle Curvo, where are you? Hic!”

Normally Rûsa was fine in drinking the apple cider from the Wood clan, but this time he had been drinking a full bottle as part of a dare between him and his older half-brothers, so it was perhaps not so strange that he was a little tipsy at the moment.

“Are you really sure that you should be up and walking when you look like that, Rûsa?” asked Saira in a slightly worried voice.

“It was…only one…bottle! Hic! I am fine!” Rûsa hiccupped in answer, trying to keep himself on his feet without falling over.

“Come here, let's get you somewhat more sober before Indis or her Vanyarin ladies-in-waiting see you. Your lady mother has enough problems already with how people view her as a unwed mother,” groaned Maeglin at seeing his tipsy behaviour, lifting up Rûsa and carrying him under one arm away to a water barrel. There, she carefully dropped down Rûsa's face in the water for only a few moments, holding away his hair with her free hand. As he was pulled back up from the water, Rûsa coughed and spat in mild shock from the sudden cold in his face.

“Much better.”

Then, without a word, Maeglin dropped Rûsa to the ground. Rûsa responded with a very foul curse word, which earned him a warning glare from Maglor between two tents while Maeglin covered Saira's ears.

“Watch your language, cousin,” said Celebrimbor as he passed by with Narvi at his side. Saira, on the other hand, giggled once Maeglin let go of her.

“I find it very fun to be with you, Rûsa, being around you sort of…spices up life!” she giggled after trying to find a fitting word. Both Rûsa and Maeglin stared at Saira in disbelief, while some of Rûsa's older half-siblings had to bend over to hide their laugher behind the trio.

“ _We really need to try and make that little lass fall in love with an Avari warrior, or at least a hard-working Teleri sailor, once she is old enough. She would be wasted on a rigid Vanyar noble brat with all their rules about proper behaviour and such,_ ” whispered Lyrin to one of his middle half-sisters, who nodded in agreement where they were partly hiding behind a tent.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As it soon were time to get back home to the royal palace in Tirion, Finwë requested his servants to try and collect his many family members so he knew that no one would be forgotten.

“…Curvo, Pityo and Telu…wait, where is Nelyo?” asked Maglor after courting the number of siblings present and found that his sister were missing.

“I would not be surprised if she is with Rog…ai, Rûsa, can you try and keep still for a moment or two?!”

Celegorm had his hands full of trying to hold his youngest nephew still, as Rûsa was affected by drinking a whole bottle of apple cider even now, despite Maeglin's earlier attempt to sober him up.

“No.” was all Rûsa said in a blunt answer, while trying to crawl out from his second-born uncle's grip.

“Sweetheart, please do as your uncle requests of you.”

It was Maedhros' voice coming from the left. At the sound, Rûsa immediately became still and quiet, much to Celegorm's relief.

“Ah, Nelyo. Where did you go earl…hold on! Is that what I think it is?!” wondered Astarë when Maedhros raised her right hand to move away a stray hair lock from her face and something on her ring finger flashed in the light from a candle. Smiling, Rog made a discreet movement that revealed his own betrothal ring on his right hand.

“About time, I may say!”

Both Rainiel and Astarë caught Maedhros in a hug, laughing in joy over finally seeing their law-sister wearing a marking of soon being wedded as well. By now, everyone else in Fëanor's family had caught sight of both the ring and the betrothal necklace she was wearing.

“ _Finally, you two!_ ”   

Rûsa took a chance to climb over to Rog while everyone of the adults were focused on the rings, not caring if he acted like a small child. Rog did not mind holding his soon-to-be stepson in his arms.

“Let's tell Finwë and the rest tomorrow, this is a private family moment,” said Nerdanel, her eyes shining in joy to the point of almost crying as she held Maedhros' face in her hands. Even Maedhros herself fought hard to not start crying in happiness. Carefully bending down her head a bit, Fëanor touched his daughter's forehead with his own while saying:

“The old nightmare of your life is finally over, my daughter. Now a true dawn will begin.”       

Maedhros could only nod, or she would have started to cry for real if she had tried to say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: In this AU, the water lily flower is a symbol for love among the Avari Elves


	25. Wedding plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros and Rog plans for their future wedding

No one in the House of Fëanor did really count on that the news about Maedhros' and Rog's betrothal would stay quiet for long. As one could expect, especially from those who spotted the betrothal rings or knew the meaning behind Maedhros' new necklace, word quickly spread, and before Fëanor led his family inside the royal palace, they guessed Finwë must have heard the new rumour as well.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Indeed he had. The moment the House of Fëanor entered the throne room, Finwë hurried towards them with open arms and a very happy smile, his long regal robes almost flowing around him. 

“I were told from the servants the news that is flying around Tirion even this early in the morning. What a joy for you, Nelyo!”

Rûsa sensed the “danger” of a incoming hug and quickly made Maedhros drop him from her arms before Finwë caught Maedhros in a hug. That he happened to accidentally stomp on Finwë's foot in the landing was ignored by the High King as a simple misstep as it had happened a couple of time back in the Years of the Trees with his many grandchildren. 

“Not much for hugs, I see.”

“He accidentally was nearly choked as a toddler when hugged by another one who was a little too eager to hug him…” said Maglor nervously, smiling since they could not exactly say that Rûsa still could be nervous about too sudden body contact at times after his life as a slave in Angband. 

“Rûsa! Come and play with me and my uncles!” called Saira, waving in greeting as she ran past the doors with Angrod in her heels.

“I am com…!”

“Wait.”

Bending down, Amrod picked up a small bag from the inside of Rûsa's belt of soft fabric.

“I thought there was something odd about those strange movements around your stomach, nephew.”   

“Not only that. Look here. Did a _certain person_ bribe you with sweets to leave your mother alone after the dance show yesterday evening…?” added Curufin suspiciously as he held up a unwrapped honey stick that Rûsa had tried to hide in his braid by its underside that was laying against his back. Rûsa answered with sticking out his tongue at his uncles before snapping back the sweets from them and hurrying out from the throne room, loudly asking Saira if she wanted to have some.

“So…who is your husband-to-be, Nelyo? Someone who we already know about, or a fellow who is reasonably unknown?” asked Finwë, getting back to the main subject now when Rûsa were not distracting them with his behaviour.

“Oh, Haru, one question at a time, please, I know that there has not been a wedding in the family for a good long time now. My husband-to-be is Rog, one of the former Lords of Gondolin, the Lord of the House of the Hammer of Wrath.”

_Crash!!_

Turgon, who just showed up, dropped his tea cup to the floor out of shock over Maedhros' words. His reaction was actually not a big surprise, given that Turgon had been the ruler of Gondolin.

“Sorry about that, I think that he just went into shock,” explained Elenwë and gently pulled her husband away to another room.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Funny enough, at the same time in his old forge here in Tirion, Rog found himself questioned by some of his fellow former Lords of Gondolin about exactly the same rumour.  

“Roooooog! Is it true?!” called Glorfindel as he opened the door to the forge.

“It is the talk of whole Tirion currently. Someone saw you both wearing the betrothal rings after the dance yesterday…” started Egalmoth, before Penlod added:

“Is it true that you really have made a marriage proposal to Princess _Nelyafinwë_ of the House of Fëanor out of all maidens you could have offered marriage to?”

Finishing the dagger he had been working on, Rog turned around to face his old friends.

“Yes. What is wrong with my choice of bride-to-be?”

“It is not that we have something against the Fëanorian princess or the sudden reveal that you plan to marry, it is the matter of both of your _pasts _ that is the main problem in such a marriage for many people! Princess Nelyafinwë is tainted by her past deeds as a Kinslayer back in the First Age, while you are seen as one of the heroes of Gondolin!”

Ecthelion tried, in a neutral way, to explain what people were very likely to say about the marriage.

“Don't forget that she will bring her young son, prince Russafinwë, with her into the marriage, just like the High King himself did when he entered his second marriage to queen Indis! People are already saying that it will be a repeat of the relationship between prince Fëanáro and prince Ñolofinwë back in the Years of the Trees if there will be children between you and Princess Nelyafinwë…”

Rog took a deep breath, he had been prepared for reactions like this when he gave the marriage offer to Maedhros yesterday evening after the sacred dance during the Flower of Love festival. Given the history of the Noldorin royal family's first two generations, a possible repeat of those events would be counted as the biggest scandal after that. Picking up another dagger from the fire with a pair of tongs, he laid it down on the anvil to work into its finishing state and started to hammer as he spoke: 

“Young Rûsa would never treat any younger sibling of his like how his maternal grandfather had done in his youth. Back in the Years of the Trees, prince Fëanáro was the only known Elfling here in Aman that did not have his mother around. Here in the Blessed Realm, we foolishly believed that the dangers of Middle-earth soon would be nothing else than a distant memory for the Elves who arrived here, a bedtime story to tell children. But no, queen Miriel's passing and the relationships between King Finwë's sons revealed that it was not the promised safely that we once had been promised. As for my stepson-to-be…in personality Rûsa is _NOT_ like his maternal grandfather, his biological father is still alive and perfectly healthy last time I saw him yesterday. The reason for why his marriage bond to Princess Nelyo was annulled by the Valar is a very private one and not something people should stick their noses into. Nowadays it is far more common among families, especially among the Avari clans, where one of the parents are not related at all to the children in the marriage. The _Ruler of Angband_ and the eventual _Lord of Mordor_ changed the view in marriage for many of their past slaves, because of the horrors in Angband.”

As per the iron-hard custom in the Avari clans, Rog did not mention either Morgoth or Sauron by name. But it was clear which persons he was talking about.

“For how long? How long have you…”

“Since she was a young _nis_ back in the Years of the Trees, long before she came of age. I sent many gifts to her already back then. I would have revealed myself as her secret admirer a lot sooner, had not prince Fëanáro chosen just _that very same day_ to threaten prince Ñolofinwë twice in public. And the rest is well-known history. Now, get out so I can focus on finishing those daggers, you are not the only ones who will come here and question my sanity about my choice of bride today.” Rog said in a dismissing voice, ignoring several shouting voices coming from the outside as he spoke.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Maedhros was awakened by the faint sound of something. Crying? Moving a little in bed, she turned her head towards the small cot in a corner of her sleeping chamber. Yes, the crying came from there._

_“Rûsa? Is something wrong?” she asked while sitting up in bed and then left the bed to go over to the cot. The small body under the blanket froze at her voice, as if he feared that she would punish him for wakening her up. A pair of black eyes peeped out from under the blanket. Even with the blanket, Rûsa could not really hide the fact that he was shaking in his whole body from crying._

_“Did you have a nightmare?”_

_A faint nod, nothing else as answer. And no wonder, it was just a week since his rebirth alongside Celebrimbor, so in a painful way, sometimes this new life and body of his must seem like a dream that he soon would wake up from and find himself back in Angband. Sighing, Maedhros bent down and easily picked up her son with blanket and all, before carrying him over her own bed._

_“No…!”_

_“I will not hurt you for being unable to sleep, sweetheart. If you can't sleep, you can come over to my bed. I am used to having Elflings climb up in my bed at night for being unable to sleep. Just ask my brothers if you do not believe me,” explained Maedhros in a calm voice before she laid down under her own blanket beside him. Rûsa made some movement under the blanket to get his head out on the pillow, then froze again when Maedhros laid her arm around him. Slowly, he started to relax again. Soon he had fallen back into sleep, far more peaceful this time.    _

~X~X~X~X~X~X

On the outside:

“Come on, Saira! Run faster or they will catch us!” said Rûsa as he used a long spear to jump between two house roofs, quickly followed by Maeglin and Saira in the same manner.

“How come…that you chose to follow us instead of capturing us, Maeglin?” wondered Saira just as the angry voices of some city guards were heard from the streets below.

“Because it is far more fun this way.”

Being a adult, Maeglin had a lot more easier to almost flow in the air as they jumped from house roof to house roof, but Rûsa's swift movements revealed that he likely did this from time to time back home in Formenos. Even if Saira ever had done this before, it was pretty clear that she enjoyed it.   

“You two are right, this is fun!”

“Home in Formenos people are used to seeing me do this at times, but it looks to be a less common sight here in Tirion.”

“Or the fact that this is not an behaviour from three members of the royal family that people get to see at all!” commented Maeglin just before she used her spear to jump over a small alley between two houses.

“Rûsa!! What are you doing?!”

“Great, my uncles has spotted us. Let's spit up, my twin uncles and second-born uncle can be pretty fast when it comes to following after me over roofs in this manner.”

Turning to the left, Rûsa jumped over several alleys with the spear towards the lower parts of Tirion. Knowing that Saira was the most likely to be captured first because of that this was the first time she jumped between the house roofs with a spear, Maeglin grabbed hold of Saira's dress with one hand and tossed over her to land in a large cart loaded with hay, which was heading towards the palace stables.

“See you later at lunch, Saira!” called Maeglin over her shoulder before running further away.

“Ok!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Having a small body and training from similar events in Formenos gave Rûsa a notable advantage to escape by the house roofs, even if his uncles were not unaccustomed to the task of chasing their youngest nephew across house roofs in this way.

“Do we have to set him in a child leash just to prevent him from climbing around!?” he could hear either Amrod or Amras shout, it was a little hard to hear properly when you were trying to escape from said uncles. On the other hand, Rûsa enjoyed those moments just because of that it often felt like he was flying, and gave him training in getting back the agility that saved his life so many times back in the First Age, be it in a battle or in the Arena.

“Ah!”

One of the Fëanorian brothers tripped over something, forcing the other two to stop and help him back up on his feet. Rûsa did the mistake of looking over his shoulder at the sound, causing himself to lose balance.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rog had now cleaned off himself and changed into a finer robe so he could arrive at the royal court without looking like he came directly from work.

“There. I better hurry now or I will be late…”

“ _AAAAAAH!_ ”

Without showing much surprise over the sudden arrival of his future stepson, Rog caught Rûsa in such manner that left Rûsa tossed over Rog's shoulder on his stomach.

“And there you were. Come on, kid, you can play chase more with the city guards later this afternoon after meeting up with the royal family about the coming wedding in a year's time or so,” was all Rog said before he started to walk against the palace, still carrying Rûsa over his shoulder.

“My uncles made a bet earlier this morning about whatever the wedding will be in Noldorin style or Avarin style, because of that you partially has returned to living with the Metal clan after being among the Noldor since the Great Journey…but they all agreed on that no matter what, queen Indis and the rest of the royal court will _insist_ on a Noldorin wedding here in Tirion!” commented Rûsa while trying to crawl out of his grasp. Rog snorted in disagreement at hearing those words.

“Because of that your maternal grandfather is the Crown prince of the Noldor and your mother is his legal firstborn heir despite being born as female? I agree with your uncles there, but your mother underwent a long of changes in both mind and body back in the First Age. I dare to say that she no longer is “fully” Noldor in her ways anymore. After all, all of the Noldor left Middle-earth at the Great Journey and there were other cultures there when we arrived.”

During the whole walk to the palace, Rog and Rûsa continued to converse in that manner, one of them saying something and the other one answering in a witty comment.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Not too long after that he had left Rûsa in the care of Finarfin who had found Saira in the stable, just as Rog were about to open the doors and enter inside the throne room:  

“ _What do you mean, that you wish for the wedding to be in Avari style and held in Formenos?!_ ”

Surprisingly, it was not only Indis who protested, but even Finwë. While he could understand that Maedhros did not want an overwhelming wedding despite being second-in-line to the Noldorin crown, it still shocked him to hear that Maedhros wanted to be an Avari bride in pretty much everything, from the manner of the dress to the wedding night.

“It is because of the culture I will be marrying into, and the culture that Rûsa's father belongs to! Getting marrying in that style would show a royal respect for the Avari clans, I am not blind to how some people here in Aman sees them as primitive and uncivilized, only because of that they refused to come to Valinor at the Great Journey.”

No matter what age she was or the place, Maedhros always hated to argue with her grandfather. As she was not the Heir apparent to Finwë but to Fëanor, her wedding would not be of such a grand scale as if her father had been High King. Yet her rank in the royal family would still make the wedding into a very big event among the Noldor, and in the rest of Aman.

“But you belong to the _Noldorin_ royal family, Maitimo! No matter who you marries, that person will be marrying into a royal life too…”

_BAM!!_

The great double doors were suddenly thrown up as unspoken request to stoop the argument, causing everyone to see how Saira and Rûsa drove a small cart pulled by Snowflake.

“Wheeeee!” laughed Saira cheerfully as Snowflake ran around in the throne room, much to the mixed disbelief and amusement of the adults.

“That cart is not made to be used indoors, you two little rascals!” called Finarfin from the outside corridor as Snowflake had gotten a rather long way ahead of him earlier.

“Come here, you two,” said Rog with a badly hidden smile and easily picked up the two Elflings from the small cart, one in each hand through the neckline of their clothing, as the Snowflake passed by him.

“Ara, please go and collect the rest of the family in our old family gathering room and order the servants to not let the courtiers disturb us before luncheon,” requested Finwë with a facepalm over what his two great-grandchildren were doing.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

After several hours of discussions and refusals of different suggestions that went far past luncheon and almost all the way down to dinner, the Noldorin royal couple and the House of Fëanor did come to a somewhat agreement:

Maedhros and Rog would be wed here in Tirion, and she would undergo the classical rituals for a Noldorin bride-to-be under the eyes of her female relatives, but other than that, they would be free to do the wedding in Avari style.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“When I find a spouse of my own one day, I will hold a full-style Avari wedding back home in Formenos with only our families, the other Elves in Formenos and our two family clans. None of this nonsense about inviting all the other royal families and such, end of discussion!” said Rûsa in a voice that revealed his thoughts about a lot of the things that Finwë and Indis had wanted to add into the wedding for political reasons, as they left the palace.

“Good point, cousin. That is exactly the reason why Narvi and I have chosen to postpone a proper wedding ceremony despite that we already are married by the laws of the Eldar, even if we both would like to have a real wedding with our families one day. People would think that I have really lost my mind,” muttered Celebrimbor, thinking about that that full-moon night when he and Narvi had wed in secret back in the Second Age.  

“As long as there is no unexpected grandchild along on the wedding as an extra guest without us knowing, I am fine with that,” teased Astarë to her son, causing Celebrimbor to blush and shutter protests about that as far as he knew, there had never been a child born between a Elf parent and Dwarf parent yet.

“Let's ask chieftains Taurion and Sûlcû if there are some unwed youngsters in the Wood and Metal clans who might be willing to use that trick Taurion used on you at the masked ball 4 years ago, to get away from people before it is time for the bedding ritual,” whispered Maedhros to Rog, who nodded in understanding. While she had long recovered from the first shock of being bedded by a _ner_ , Maedhros strongly disliked the idea of having to consummate their marriage already on the wedding night. The mere thought of consummating the marriage bond already on the wedding night made it feel forced in her mind and far too alike the manner in which she and Taurion had been forced to conceive Rûsa.

“Thank the Allfather for the Avarin custom of not touching the spouse unless he or she is ready for such an intimate act, then. I won't touch you in the marriage bed until that you feel ready for it,” promised Rog and placed a kiss on Maedhros' hand.

“No such pillow-talk around the kids, you know.” laughed Nerdanel as she pretended to hold for Rûsa's ears with mocked horror on her face.


	26. Wanting for a wedding to come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The months before the wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: My good friend Order and Chaos - Qui Iudicant on Fanfiction dot net has been given my permission to make a slightly different version of my first fanfiction story called Daughter of Fëanor, a crossover between Harry Potter and Silmarillion. Feel free to check it out

The following twelve months with all the planning, minor disagreements between everyone involved and flat out culture clashes between the Noldor and Avari wedding customs was not an easy period. While many moral guardians expressed great relief that Maedhros would finally marry and become a “properly wedded wife and mother”, others found it a scandal over the fact that Rog was not Rûsa's biological father and that Maedhros was entering marriage with a new husband instead of going back to “ _whoever it was that had fathered her son_ ”.

“If there is so much as **_one_** single bad comment about Maedhros or Rog on their wedding day, you youngsters has my full permission to “choose” that person and throw them in one of the city's fountains on purpose under the disguise that it is a wedding tradition to do so with random guests when someone really high-born is getting married,” commanded Taurion to some of the Wood clan's youngsters one day when he overheard a Noldor noble _nis_ openly saying to her husband that Maedhros' new marriage to Rog would end up repeating the events with Finwë's marriage history.

“Can't we start already now, sir? Just as a little training?” suggested one of the young girls eagerly as she rubbed her palms together. 

“Wait until that woman's husband has left her, it looks like he is about to go and buy something for her.” was all Taurion left as answer. Sure enough, it did not take long before a high-pitched scream of terror was heard followed by the sound of someone getting thrown into a fountain. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

One day, during a late winter day in Fourth Age 30 when it was only a few months left to the wedding between his mother and future stepfather, Rûsa wandered up to the top of the closest mountain around Formenos. The mountain was not that much taller than the tallest guard tower in the city, and he had told his family where he would be going along with when he planned to be back, so no one would start searching for him yet.

_Tales of my family's great deeds_

_In a era now long gone._

_Every individual different from the other_

_Both great heroes and fallen failures._

_What once started in the Years of the Trees_

_With a unusual birth, created so much._

_A lost High Queen, a captured mother_

_Forced apart from her child._

_I never knew the truth, or asked why_

_Until that it was far too late to stop._

_The life of one innocent girl was sacrificed_

_Because of my attempt to free her._

_And then when Angband finally fell_

_I paid with my life for a foolish escape_

_Alongside my real mother._

_But all that is now in the far away past_

_If I trust in my own way, I might finally_

_Find out who I truly am._

_It's time to take a step, a new life begins now._

_But where do I go from here?_

_I must choose, must take a chance._

_I can't avoid it forever, one day it is time_

_To reveal my past as the Warg Rider._

_Yet my living fear of rejection and contempt_

_Is like one ice-cold claw around my heart._

_Please tell me, Eru Ilúvatar, I am begging you_

_Is there a way to free me from my past?_

_Shall I forever have to fear my own past self_

_Or is there a hope for me as well?_   

Rûsa knelt in the snow as he sang the last part of the song that had formed itself from his lips, pushing apart some of the snow on the ground in front of him. There, in the snow pit, he then placed a symbolic face mask of iron as proof of that he really wished to be free from his past life in Angband and that he more than anything else wanted to start over in his current life.  

“No matter what, I do not want my younger half-siblings to know that I once was the feared Warg Rider back in the First Age. They would not be able to understand the horrors I had to do, our lives would be too different…and they will not be able to understand when people will call our mother a Kinslayer around them until that they are old enough to understand what really happened back then…no, it is better to bury the sins of the past forever…”

Rûsa pushed back snow over the pit, burying the face mask of iron under the snow. Standing up on his feet again, he turned around to look towards Formenos. The city that now was his home, the place where he had his family. In a moment of absent-minding, Rûsa touched the V-shaped scar on his left cheek with his left hand and his right hand touching a stone necklace with 3 stones in different colours, each stone wearing a different Avari sign that together read 618 years, his true age that contrasted so much with the body of a 20-year-old Elfling that looked no bigger than a 7-year-old human child. Suddenly a blowing horn was being heard in the winter air.

“All right, all right, I am coming home for lunch, uncles! No need of blowing the signal horn like that just to remind me…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maedhros was being given a test of the wedding makeup she would wear at the wedding with some of her friends from the Wood clan when they heard the front door open.

“I am home…ah, Snowflake! Don't bring in more snow into the house!” Rûsa said in protest and covered his face with one arm when his dog shook off snow from her fur. Muttering for himself, Rûsa changed out of his outer clothing and the winter boots before searching the house for his mother.

“Hi, sweetheart. How was your walk?” wondered Maedhros as she turned her head to greet her son.  

“Good, ammë, nothing happened…is that the makeup you were talking about earlier?”

Gold paint followed the upper rim of Maedhros' eyes, giving a nice contrast to her pale skin and copper-red hair.

“Do you like it, Rûsa?”

“Yes,” he answered once he remembered to not gape in surprise. The older females giggled at his reaction, finding it cute when he blushed like that. Rolling his eyes, Rûsa started to braid his hair again as it had came loose from the braid he had made earlier in the morning before breakfast. There was a tea pot with steaming tea and cups in a small table in front of the fire place, so Rûsa poured up some tea in a cup to drink.    

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_The first days after his rebirth had been so confusing. Not just in that he was alive again in a new and very young body, seeing how his mother acted around her family, their way of living, the language…everything._

_“Tyelpë, can you please come in here?”_

_“I am coming, ammë_ _Astarë.”_

_His cousin checked on the fire in the oven and tossed in a new piece of firewood, before leaving the kitchen. Once Celebrimbor had left,_ _Rûsa came out from where he had hidden in the most shadow-covered corner to not be seen. The whole kitchen was filled with the scent of freshly baked cardamom muffins, which had been placed on a large plate in the middle of the dinner table to cool off. The smell was so appealing and Rûsa really wanted to taste one, but because of that his new body was so small he could not reach up. And it was not any easier to climb up on a chair around the table because of his height. Rûsa was so focused on trying to climb up on the chair, that he first did not notice Nerdanel in the door._

_“Damn it!” he swore loudly in a mix of the bastardized Quenya and Sindarin spoken in Angband, kicking the chair with his foot in frustration._

_“No such language in this house, grandson. And don't kick things like that,” she said sternly in Quenya while picking him up from the floor. Rûsa made a good attempt in_ _trying to crawl out of her arms, but Nerdanel had not raised seven children for nothing and thus, was able to keep a steady hold on her grandson despite that Rûsa tried to hit her rather violently with his small fists to make her let go of him. Having seen that Rûsa had set his eyes on the muffins, Nerdanel put him down on a chair so that he was sitting then took a muffin and offered it to him with the words:_

_“You do not need to steal food for survival here, Rûsa. If you are hungry, all you need is to tell us adults and we will fix something for you to eat.”_

_Stunned by her unexpected kind words instead of the scolding or slap that he had expected her to give him as punishment, Rûsa looked doubtfully between his maternal grandmother and the muffin that was now laying innocently in his hands. Keeping a watchful eye on Nerdanel's face and hands the whole time, clearly expecting her to suddenly snatch back the muffin without warning and not giving him something to eat at all, Rûsa took a bite of the muffin. Because of his old habit to wolf down food thanks to not knowing when he could eat next time, Rûsa choked on a piece of the muffin and fought desperately to not throw up. Seeing what was happening, Nerdanel took a steady hold of his small shoulders and held out a small bowl under his face so the piece of muffins could land there. As Rûsa gasped several times for breath, Nerdanel asked in a worried voice:_

_“Are you all right, sweetheart?”_

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By now, Rûsa had read a few pages in a book that he had gotten as homework from master Rumil until the next day. Even if he now was able to read and write fairly well for the age his new body was, he still had problems thanks to his past illiteracy. If he had been placed in a test beside other 20-year-old Elflings, it would reveal that Rûsa was far behind his peers in the school subjects as the royal family and nobles used to learn at that age. In fact, most other tutors would likely place Rûsa's skills around the level of a 10-year-old or 15-year-old Elfling. 

“Ammë, I do not like how some people still seem to see your wedding to Rog as im…immo…”

“Immoral?” suggested Maedhros helpfully when she saw him struggle to say the right word, knowing that her son's illiteracy from his past life made him almost literally walk into a wall when he did read or hear really complex words that was not used in everyday life.

“Yeah. Really, those people should try and survive for a week in Angband. Their views on what that is proper and not proper would be brutally smashed from the first sight of the Orcs.” Rûsa said in a completely deadpan voice from where he was sitting on the thick rug, without looking up from his book that he held in front of his face by placing it on his knees, thus totally missing the looks of bewilderment and worry that Maedhros shared with the other She-elves. While Rûsa clearly had gotten better in social manners, moments like this revealed that he still had some of his darker personality as the Warg Rider deep inside him. A personality that was ruthless, feral, dangerous and cold-hearted in battle. Someone who would use any known dirty tricks, to win and survive against an opponent in battle.

“Please read aloud for me what master Rumil gave you as homework until tomorrow, honey.”

“Yes, ammë.”  

Going back to the first page in the homework after finishing the last page, Rûsa started to read out aloud for Maedhros while she tested a different hairstyle among those that was common among Avarin brides to wear on their wedding day. Not only did it make it easier for Rûsa to get help faster if he found it difficult to pronounce the words correctly, it also gave him some free training in how to speak loudly and clear in front of other people.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Rog and Fëanor was busy in making the final step on Maedhros' wedding jewelry. By Avarin tradition as the two most important men in her life, the father of the bride and the bridegroom were to make something that the bride would wear on the wedding day. It could be anything, from a simple band to tie the bride's hair with to being one of the Elves who sewed the bride dress.

“What do you think about this?”

Rog held up a golden bride-crown, created to look like a set of seven Fëanorian stars with small emeralds at the edges. Fëanor took a closer look at the crown.

“Good choice. Even after the wedding, I would not be surprised if people will still prefer Nelyo as a Fëanorian out of habit, given that we are trying to keep the truth about Rûsa's birth hidden,” said Fëanor, showing with his words that he was pleased with the bride-crown.

“Yes. I was shocked when princess Maeglin revealed that she had met Rûsa in Angband during her captivity there, even if they did not know that they were relatives back then. But at the same time, I am glad that he helped her escape from that place.”

Rog did not mention to Fëanor that Maeglin had been Rûsa's concubine in Angband, he did not doubt that neither one of the two would wish that sensitive topic to be revealed to their respective families and it was very likely that it would bring up unpleasant memories as well for them both.

“Even if I did not like my two half-brothers and their sisters back in the Years of the Trees, I never wished for one of them or a family member of theirs to suffer a such fate as Ang…ow!”  

Because of that he was looking on the golden bride-crown in Rog's hands, Fëanor slipped in the working pace and his hammer ended up landing straight on his thumb. Even with the thick leather gloves to cushion the blow, Fëanor did not doubt that he had sprained his thumb and that it would probably be very swollen in the coming days.

“Let's take a small break, I need to bandage the thumb…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

When his maternal grandfather and future stepfather entered the house, Rûsa had finished the homework and had his goal set on the kitchen.

“I know that there are some honey cookies somewhere in here…there!”

There the honey cookies from yesterday was, enough much to fill a small wicker basket that was standing on one of the shelves in the pantry. The shelf was one of the ones just out of Rûsa's reach even if he stood on his toes to reach. Not that Rûsa gave up so easily, he simply went and brought a small footstool from the corner that was often used by him during the weekly cleaning of the house.

“All right, better hurry upstairs to my sleeping chamber before ammë sees me here!”

In his hurry to get to the staircase with his sneaked prize, Rûsa failed to see the adult shape in front of him and he ended up running straight into Rog. Falling back on the floor with a small yelp in surprise, Rûsa nearly lost his hold on the basket so the cookies spread out on the floor around him.

“Was that Rûsa who made that noise right now, Rog?” called Maedhros from one of the inner rooms, making Rûsa freeze in his movements. Surely he was about to get scolded by both his mother and future stepfather? But to Rûsa's great surprise, Rog simply laughed.

“No, Nelyo. It was Snowflake who wanted to get out in the snow again.”

They could hear Maedhros saying something about “ _large hounds and even larger enthuasiasm_ ” from the room she was in. Bending down on one knee to pick up a honey cookie from the floor so he was closer to Rûsa's eye level, Rog smiled:

“Glad to see that you enjoy the honey cookies that my parents brought on the visit here yesterday.”

Rûsa blushed in slight embarrassment. His family had met up with Rog's parents, Rána and Valsûl of the Metal clan, the day before. Like their son, the pair were former slaves of Angband who had been enslaved in the attack on the Metal clan but had failed to escape alongside Rog before the Great Journey and they eventually had died of starvation and the too harsh slave labour not long after Rog's escape. Rána, who had been born in the Avarin Sand clan where most members had black skin, was an open-hearted _nis_ who had easy for laughter and had adored her future step-grandson from the very start. Rog's pale-skinned father Valsûl had been a little more careful around Rûsa, likely to soften the first surprise over his wife's cheerful personality.

“I liked them too…both your parents and the honey cookies, I mean…” mumbled Rûsa in a moment of shyness from the earlier embarrassment. Rog laughed again, then handed Rûsa a handful of the honey cookies before pushing him gently against the staircase.

“Up you go, lad, before Nelyo comes and sees what you have done.”

Rûsa grinned as thanks, before hurrying up the stairs with his set of honey cookies.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: The Avarin Sand clan is based on the Bedouins, with its members having Central African appearance. The Avarin Metal clan is meant to be a mix of India in culture and Eastern Europe in appearance. The names of Rog's parents were found on the Middle-earth Role Playing wiki page for the Avari Elves. I also imagine Rána to be either a singer or dancer of some kind, while Valsûl is a painter. Rûsa's song is based on both English and Swedish versions of “Where do I go from here” from Pocahontas II: Journey to a New World


	27. Wedding ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding between Maedhros and Rog

A month after Midsummer Eve, year 30 in the Fourth Age, Tirion. It was the dawn of the date chosen for the wedding between Maedhros and Rog. Because of all the last rites that Maedhros has go thought before it was time to present her in the chosen trousseau for her bridegroom, the Noldorin royal family would not have enough time to eat breakfast together. Instead, Finwë had requested the servants to carry up food trays to the different guest chambers where his family members had settled in the few days before the wedding.  

“Oh, for the hell of it!” Maeglin snapped in annoyance when the hair brush caught yet another hair tangle in her black hair, still wet and slightly curly after the morning bath along with Idril and Aredhel. She lost the remaining patience she had and ended up slamming down the hair brush on the wooden dressing table, frowning at her mirror-image as she held her face in her hands with the elbows supporting her.

“Maeglin, don't break the mirror, please,” Idril requested without too much surprise over her cousin's anger from where she was drying off her golden hair with a towel.  

“Let me help you with your hair, Lómiel.”

Taking up the hair brush, Aredhel started to brush though her daughter's long hair.

“Seriously, why do we all need to raise so early? The wedding ceremony is not until midday, last time I checked…”

Because of that he was still somewhat half-asleep and would only wake up properly once he entered the warn bath chamber, Tuor nearly ended up walking into the doorway while talking.

“A little more to the left, honey.” warned Idril by looking at him from the mirror before her husband caused harm to himself this early in the morning. A black eye would only cause gossip that Maeglin had fallen back in her old dislike of Tuor that had marked her last 14 years of life before the Fall of Gondolin.

“Excuse us.”

Four of the kitchen maids entered the chambers, all carrying a breakfast tray as per the High King's orders the evening before.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Inside the bride chambers, Maedhros was only too happy in finally getting free from the dawn prayers that Indis insisted on that she would do on the morning of the wedding date. The moment the prayer was over, Maedhros were quick to return to the other chambers. She almost tore off her morning robe along with the sleeping dress she had been wearing, her goal set on the warm bath.

“Let in my soon to be law-mother Rána, lady Atara and the other Avarin ladies from the different Avari clans who shall help me dress for the wedding ceremony. Time to let them take over,” ordered Maedhros while Nerdanel released her daughter's hair from the braid it had been into. Maedhros' breakfast would be a light yet still filling one, mostly because of that she soon would dress into the her wedding dress and thus could not really eat anything too filling. In this case, different kind of sandwiches and tea for Maedhros.

“I tried to tell the queen that it was no need for the morning prayers, it is not like that Nelyo is completely unaware of the life as a married woman, especially since she is already a mother!” complained Atara as she started to open up the baskets where the different parts of Maedhros' wedding dress had been placed for safe-keeping.

“Indis has a little difficult to see things from another point of view…” started Nerdanel, before another Avari lady interrupted her:

“…think we spotted a shadow in a corner that could only be either Rûsa or princess Saira, hard to tell…but it was clearly a young Elfling.”

Maedhros herself did not say anything from where she was sitting in a hot tub of wood filled with warm water, being offered small sandwiches with different fillings and a deep goblet of ice-cold water to drink so she would not overheat in the warm water. Rather, she tried to focus on staying calm and taking it easily despite understandable worries that something might go wrong in the last minute.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Out of sheer nervousness over the wedding and not being able to sit still and wait during the next few hours, Rûsa did escape from the palace once he had eaten up all the food on his breakfast tray and gotten dressed in a everyday robe. After all, it was not like that he needed to dress into his best robes yet in a couple of hours. And he did absolutely not wish to get a panic attack out of stress on his mother's wedding day.

“Hey! Don't run around like that, lad! There is enough work for us without having any of the cakes knocked over!” warned Narvi in a sharp tone when Rûsa sneaked out to the area where some of his family's old Dwarven friends and allies were busy in helping the cooks create the finishing touches on the wedding cakes. Narvi herself and Celebrimbor were shaping marzipan figurines after the Fëanorian Star and the Stricken Anvil, the emblem of the House of the Hammer of Wrath, as symbols for Maedhros and Rog.  

“Wow, Narvi…I did not know that you could do this as well.”

“A old hobby from my life in the Second Age. When you have a younger brother who is skilled in cooking and baking expect for shaping the finer details on the finishing result, this is what happens.You elves are so damn skinny that I at times wonder if you eat anything at all!”

Judging from the way Celebrimbor rolled his eyes behind her head, this was not the first time he heard his Dwarven wife say that. Rûsa giggled at her words, he would have tried to sneak a small marzipan piece had it not been for the small fear of seeing the cutting knives in the dwarves’ hands and know how dangerous they could be with anything sharp in their hands.

“Narvi's younger brother Loki was also the only one of her two brothers who figured out the truth about our relationship long before we even knew that we were in love. Claimed that it was something in our behaviour around each other that made him start thinking that we were made for each other. I am still surprised over that Narvi did not give him a black eye the first time he said that straight to our faces,” said Celebrimbor as he carefully placed a green-coloured marzipan Fëanorian Star on a cake with whipped cream.

“He used one of his big pots filled with that evening's dinner stew as defence. I would have destroyed his hard work as cook if I had tried to hit him.”  

Rûsa held back a laugher at that mental image. No wonder that his cousin had fallen for Narvi, with the way they gave each other witty comments while calmly working on what they had in their hands. Soon they were finished, and left to make the last family meeting with Maedhros before the wedding ceremony.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the bridal chambers:

“I am so glad for that only the bride's parents and siblings are allowed to see me in the bride dress before the ceremony. As much as I love our big family, it can be a little too many people at times when we all are gathered,” said Maedhros as she was holding out her arms so the red fabric belt could be tied around her waistline. Her wedding dress was a five-layer kimono known as a _Jūnihitoe_ in four main colours; light green, golden, red and white. On each one of the silk layers in the back of the _Jūnihitoe_ was a Fëanorian Star in silver thread to show which House she had been born into. She was also wearing her bridal jewelry, the tiara-shaped crown of seven stars in gold and emeralds along with a couple of golden earrings and emerald necklace shaped as a Fëanorian Star that Rog and Fëanor had made together. Outside the gold paint following the upper rim of her eyes, Maedhros was also having a Fëanorian Star made out of henna on her forehead as a sign of that she was the bride in question today. With her copper-red hair falling freely along her back, Maedhros indeed made a stunning bride.

“Indeed, it is already enough with us here…boys! Get off your sister!” ordered Fëanor when all six of his sons caught Maedhros in a unexpected sibling hug.

“Last sibling hug from us before you become a wedded woman, sister. Not that it will be a end of it after your wedding today, but it is the last one as our unwed older sister.”

“Ha, ha! More like eternal babysitter to you six. I swear that you still are acting like little Elflings at times just to recreate our childhood,” Maedhros laughed to her brothers while her parents made their younger sons let go of her. She earned several agreeing grins in return.

“Ammë! Ammë, are you still in the bridal chambers?”

Rûsa looked inside the chambers before being gently pushed inside by Celebrimbor.

“My, look at this handsome little fellow. Already showing that you one day will be knocking ladies off their feet once you are old enough in this new body!” joked Celegorm and lifted up Rûsa in the air so Maedhros could see the light blue Sherwani he had gotten as a surprise gift from Rána earlier this morning and currently was wearing.

“Put me down right now, uncle Tyelko! It is not the right time for such jokes! And I do not like being the centre of everyone's attention!” protested Rûsa, trying to kick his second-born uncle in the face to show that he was not in the right mood for being treated like a real child at the moment. Curufin was quick to free Rûsa before Celegorm risked to get his nose broken by a kick. Maedhros bent down a little bit so Rûsa could hug her.

“Don't try to fool me, Russafinwë; I can see on you that you still have some running in the legs that want to come out before the wedding ceremony. Run and fetch my old sword from the First Age, won't you?” requested Maedhros kindly. At an Avari wedding ceremony, the custom was for the bride and bridegroom to hold up a sword together as a sign of the wedding wow that they would stand together in both peace and battle. By tradition, it would be a sword owned by the bride, as the Avari clans taught their wives and daughters how to use weapons in battle. Maedhros' sword from the First Age would be a perfect sword for that vow.

“Yes, ammë.”

It did not take many minutes for Rûsa to come back with the sword. It looked somewhat comical when he arrived, because the longsword of iron was notable longer than a normal sword to suit Maedhros' unusual height and enough heavy to make Rûsa having to nearly drag the sword along the marble floor.

“No wonder…that the Orcs tended to flee in terror from ammë when she was seen…when she had this sword!” 

Maedhros grabbed the sword grip to prevent that her son dropped it on his toes. Because of that Fingon had been forced to cut off her right hand to free her, Maedhros had became used to only using her left hand in the First Age and thus was ambidextrous now in her second life.

“Yes. This sword served me well back then. And I was so glad to see that it was brought home here to Aman by uncle Arafinwë, even if tainted by blood, this is a weapon that once saved my life so many times in battle. I would not replace this sword with any other weapon even if I was paid for it.”

The sword had been one of Maedhros' last gifts from Fëanor before his death in Middle-Earth, so it was both a family heirloom and a personal gift.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By now, with only half a hour left to the wedding ceremony, Rog allowed his father to braid light blue ribbons into his white hair before a dark grey veil was fastened in his high pony tail with a golden hairpin. Despite everything and having every right to be nervous, Rog was actually remarkable calm. Personally, he felt that getting married was far less dangerous than going out in battle where you did not know if you would survive, so why fuss about it?

“Forest green for the Wood clan, silvery grey for the Metal clan.”

The different clans' theme colours were the main colours at a wedding between two clans. As the House of Fëanor were honorary members of the Wood Clan, Maedhros' wedding dress would be a variant of the Wood clan's traditional light green wedding kimono while Rog wore the traditional silver-coloured wedding Sherwani of the Metal clan.  

“Our little boy, about to getting married…” sighed Rána in a mother's understandable joy of seeing her beloved son marry a wife of his own and Valsûl gave Rog a supporting hand on his shoulder in silent agreement to his wife's words. In contrast to her husband in his soft red Sherwani, Rána wore her birth clan's special draped dress of white linen with some gold jewelry in her cornrows.

“When Nelyo feels ready to consummate our marriage, whenever that will be in the future, I am willing to bet that our first child together will be conceived within 20 years later. After all, Nelyo herself was born about 10 years after the marriage of her parents, and they married only a few months after coming of age! But I will limit the number to maybe two or three children, we will have enough trouble with Rûsa even now long before those little ones will arrive!”

Both Rána and Valsûl smiled at their son's words. The number of children born between Fëanor and Nerdanel was famous, especially as they all were born in a legal marriage and not born in Angband as half-siblings from different breeding slaves.

“Good point, son. There is a limit to how many grandchildren we two will be able to deal with. We will have one already in her boy after the wedding ceremony…”

Suddenly there was a sound of bells in the air.

“I have to go to the shamans at the ceremony platform. The bells mean that Nelyo will be coming in the following minutes, better be ready.”

Taking up the red cloak that he would wear during the wedding ceremony, Rog hurried away while he fastened the cloak with a golden buckle.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By custom, a Avarin bride were to go though a passage consisting of her closest male relatives, who held up crossed swords in the air above her head before arriving at the platform where the wedding ceremony were to be performed, in this case her six brothers. At the end of the passage, the bride's parents were to put a white hair veil on their daughter together. Maedhros was being led by Rûsa in her free hand as they walked down the aisle between her brothers. After all, he was going to be part of the new family created by this wedding ceremony and he would really feel left out if he was not allowed to have some sort of important role. As Fëanor and Nerdanel carefully placed the veil on Maedhros' hair, Rûsa were given a long, golden ribbon from Taurion. With Maedhros being an honorary member of the Wood clan, it was Taurion who gave away the ceremonial ribbon that the shamans were to tie loosely around Rog's and Maedhros' hands when they held up her sword in the air together. Rûsa's real role at the ceremony was to be revealed later, once the marriage wows had been spoken.

“Do your best, Arion,” whispered Taurion encouraging to his youngest son, using Rûsa's Sindarin father-name to show the meaning. Rûsa nodded, hoping that he could be able to do his role properly. Maedhros touched his cheek with her free hand.

“You will do great, sweetie, I really believe so.”

Taking a deep breath, Maedhros raised her eyes towards Rog and slowly walked towards the ceremony platform. Two steps away, she slowly took up her sword so it laid in both of her hands. As Maedhros stepped up on the flower dressed platform and stood face to face with him, Rog took a gentle hold of her hand that was holding the sword grip. Placing his other hand on her remaining hand, Rog carefully moved it down along the flat side of the sword. If the bridegroom made the bride cut her palm or fingers on the sword edge, it was seen as a sign of hidden disrespect against his wife-to-be. It did not take many moments for them to hold up the sword together, Rog's hands holding around Maedhros', the edges against their faces so the sword did not partly block their view of each other.  

“Why does they have a such dangerous weapon during a important ceremony like this? Barbaric…”

One of Finarfin's sons discreetly elbowed the Noldorin noble behind him in the stomach with far more force than needed, but it was enough to make the other _ner_ quiet thanks to the sudden pain. He got a grateful nod from Nerdanel, who had seen it.

“Russafinwë Arion Nelyafinwion. The binding ribbon, if you please?”

Swallong hard, Rûsa bent his head down to the ground in an act of respect as he held up the golden ribbon to the two highest-ranked shamans from the Wood and Metal clans that were performing the wedding ceremony. The golden ribbon was tied loosely, so it was hanging from Maedhros' and Rog's forearms. Then, it was time to say the wedding vows. The bridegroom was to speak his first:

“I promise faithfulness and patience, respect and lightheartedness, attentiveness and self-improvement. I will celebrate your triumphs, and love you all the more for your failures.”

Then it was the bride's turn.

“I vow to have the patience that love demands, to speak when words are needed and to share in the silence when they are not.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

While Maedhros and Rog were speaking their vows, Rûsa was stepping back with his hands on the back to make the non-Avari wedding guests think that his part of the wedding ceremony was over. When he was at a distance he felt sure about, he quickly raised up the blue eye veil over his forehead to check with his eyes how the angle was. Once the vows had been spoken, his true role at the ceremony would be performed.

“Thank goodness that ammë persuaded my married uncles and their wives to act as stand-in for her and Rog during my practice on this, after that I had gotten enough skilled on the training dummies out in the nearby training yard. Although I do not blame poor uncle Káno for fainting out of sheer shock during the first practice…”

The moment Maedhros had finished her marriage vows, Rûsa acted and threw two small daggers against the two hair veils that his mother and stepfather wore. His old skills as the Warg Rider was tactfully hidden here, no one would suspect anything. The two veils were knocked off perfectly by the force, landing in the respective mothers' hands as a sign of that their children were married. In doing so, the bride and bridegroom were revealed for everyone to see them.

“All hail the bride and bridegroom!”

A loud cheer was heard from the crowd, almost downing the sound from the trumpet blasts. Well, almost everyone. There was a notable small number of High Elves among the noble guests who had fainted from the shock when Rûsa had thrown the small daggers. Queen Indis was among them, forcing poor Finwë to catch her in his arms before she collapsed to the ground.

“Wake those lazy people up. If they think that the wedding ceremony is uncivilized, then they have just seen the beginning of what we Avarin Elves see as a proper wedding!” commanded Taurion without compassion, sweeping with his hand against the nearest fountain as signal to the unwed youngsters from the Wood clan. Maedhros and Rog tried their best to hold back a laugher, having spotted what Taurion indirectly had ordered the youngsters to do.

“Nolo, Ara, please move away for a moment or two, I need some more space here for your mother. Now I see why Rûsa handed me the bottle with smelling salts earlier…” requested Finwë to his two younger sons, already digging in his inner pocket after the smelling salts he had been given before the ceremony.

“Now that was indeed a different way of doing a marriage ceremony,” laughed Ingwë from somewhere in the crowd while Rûsa himself was trying to appear like he was just busy in whistle innocently at his mother's side.  

 

(The wedding banquet will be in next chapter, good readers!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: a Jūnihitoe is an extremely elegant and highly complex kimono that was only worn by court-ladies in Japan. Literally translated, it means "twelve-layer robe", I choose to make a five-layered version of it because in the summer heat, poor Maedhros would have been overheated as the total weight of a twelve-layer Jūnihitoe could add up to 20 kilos on the wearer! Not a wise choice for a bride dress in the middle of summer. Sherwani is a long coat-like garment worn in South Asia. Rána's dress is based on how noble women in Ancient Egypt dressed during the New Kingdom. I slightly based Maedhros' wedding jewelry and veil to look like an emerald version of the first image shown in the text about Elizabeth Hurley’s Indian Wedding Headpiece in the archives on the website; the wedding tiara dot com, with some Fëanorian style added


	28. Wedding evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the later half of the wedding day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: My fellow fanfic writer Nuredhel has posted fanart for the Rûsa-AU on DeviantArt. Feel welcome to check it out

While some of the Avari Elves took the task of waking up those who had fainted in a somewhat cold way that meant dropping their faces into the fountains, Maedhros was given a kiss by Rog on the cheek before he ruffled Rûsa's hair with a fond smile.

“Good throwing with the daggers earlier, kid. Useful to have a couple of married uncles once in a while, huh?”

“Yeah. Although I took the safe way by first training on a couple of dummies otherwise used for weapon training back home in Formenos,” said Rûsa while trying to stop his newly made stepfather from messing up his braided hair. Rog laughed.

“Well, that explains the complaints about the “faces” on the dummies being nearly ruined from throwing daggers.”

Picking up Rûsa, Rog placed him on his shoulder so he could carry him.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Before the wedding banquet, Maedhros changed clothes to a light blue sari made out of silk to escape the worst of the summer heat. The colour also made a dramatic contrast to her copper-red hair.

“Loveliest bride this summer!”

“Did you also have to hold back a laugh at seeing that Noldorin queen was among those who fainted when Rûsa threw the daggers?”

“You and Rog are a really great match, lady Maedhros.”

“Yeah, no risk of repeating the old history between your sire and his brothers here between young Rûsa and your future children with Rog, oh no!”

They all laughed in agreement over that. If anything, Rûsa had indeed learnt from the early history of the Noldorin royal family how to **_not_** act against any possible younger half-siblings that only shared one parent with him. By causing the now infamous sibling rivalry between Fëanor and Fingolfin by the lies he had fed to Fëanor, Morgoth had spit the Noldor from their needed unity and opened up the path to the Darkening of Valinor.

“What are you adults laughing about?”

It was Saira who peeked inside the chamber to catch a glimpse of Maedhros' new dress, wanting to see more of the colourful clothes that the Avari Eves wore at a wedding like this. The Avari clans' festival clothes were like multicoloured rainbows together, making formal clothing of the Noldor, Vanyar and Teleri nobles look plain and flat out dull in colour beside the Avari Elves.

“We just found it funny to see some people faint when Rûsa threw the daggers to knock off the hair veils,” Maedhros explained with a smile to her cousin-child, standing up in her full height. The golden border on her sari was just long enough to not show her ankles, or the more pious courtiers at the Vanyarin royal court would have claimed that she was trying to tempt innocent adolescents despite that they just had witnessed her making thought the wedding ceremony with Rog.

“Really, one would think that those rumours about Rûsa's begetting and such should finally die down a bit now with this wedding…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The wedding banquet took place inside one of the dinner halls of the royal palace. As per custom, the bride and bridegroom were seated at the centre of the high table, with the bride's family to the right and the bridegroom's family to the left. Outside those, the different branches in Noldorin royal family, the invited Vanyarin and Teleri royals were also seated there, along with the six Avarin chieftains and their wives.

“It feels so odd to be the centre of all of this, Atar…” whispered Maedhros nervously to Fëanor as the first course was brought into the hall by servants. The events in Angband had changed Maedhros when it came to feasts. No longer did she truly enjoy having many eyes focused on her; that had been shown very early with how uncomfortable Maedhros had been when she had abdicated as the Noldorin High Queen in favour for Fingolfin. By instinct, Maedhros started to pull on the sleeve fabric over her right hand as if to hide the stump and trying to gently push some of her red hair partly over her face to cover the horrible scars that she no longer bore thanks to having a new, unmarred body. The years of living simply as the Lady of Himring, where she had been surrounded by only her own soldiers and household servants, seemed so far away in this very moment.

“It is only for today, daughter of mine. Try and hold out until that the banquet is over, at least.”     

The first course was a soup called Harira. Maedhros and Rog had requested that something from the Sand clan, where Rog's mother Rána came from, would be part of the served food dishes as a hint to that Rog had a parent from two Avari clans and not just the Metal clan.

“So far, Rûsa has managed to stay calm and not complain over anything…I just hope that it won't become anything strange later…” Maedhros thought while looking over towards her son, who was sitting with Saira between Nerdanel and Celeborn. Even after living in Aman for 19 years, Rûsa could have difficultly with how to behave according to the standards of the Eldar. Granted, he did his best when it was big and important events like this, but one never knew when his patience would start getting thin.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

To her private relief, Maeglin had been seated beside Gil-galad. The two cousins enjoyed a small talk as they ate the first course.

“Remember seeing some of the more snobbish nobles' reaction on hearing that lady Maitimo actually had managed to get betrothed? That there actually was someone who managed to win her heart?”

They both snickered at the memory. It had always been fun to hear about Rûsa chasing away the more arrogant ones of Maedhros' previous suitors, especially when they had been witnesses to a couple of such scenes themselves in both Tirion and Formenos. One thing that really could not be denied in any way, was that Rûsa truly had shown a lot of creative ways to scare the unfortunate suitors away from his mother.   

“My favourite is still that one when he used a simple broom to knock that Vanyarin noble into the dunghill.”

“Or when Cirdan's great-grandson received an unexpected shower with his clothes on from a water bucket that had been hidden over the front door, although that one was a “kind” way of saying that Rûsa did not want him as a stepfather despite that it was clear that they otherwise liked each other. And Cirdan later said that it actually was only a pretext, to help lady Maitimo a bit against other suitors even if it did fail...”

A light cough from their grandmother Anairë stopped their talking for a small while.

“Sorry, grandmother.”

The second course was different meat-, fish-, and chicken-dishes. Some of the Avarin dishes from the Metal clan were served with a strong curry sauce, others with rice and vegetables. From the Wood clan came a set of spicy soups, salads and different fried meats. Finally, from the Noldor side, there was Ratatouille and other kinds of vegetable based dishes along with more unusual bird dishes like pigeon.  

“Saira, do you want some more pirogi?” Rûsa asked, as he just had spotted a small serving plate with those dumplings at his left. Being the ones closest in age for outsiders, they had been seated together.

“Just one, please.”

By royal etiquette, they could not take more than one plateful of each food. It was seen as vulgar for a royal princess or prince to appear gluttonous, and in the long run a negative reason for possible marriage.

“It is only half-way though the second course and I already feel stuffed full…”

Rûsa's old eating habits was trying to show itself again, he felt unable to eat anything more and did not trust himself to taste anything at the moment in fear that he would feel sick.

“The two of you can go and play for a little while. I do not think it will be time for dessert yet in a while,” Celeborn suggested at seeing both of the Elflings showing signs of boredom. Remembering very well how his own daughter Celebrian and his twin grandsons Elladan and Elrohir could be in that age, he could spot the signs.

“Thank you, uncle Celeborn!” Saira smiled at him, right before Rûsa dragged her along from the high table.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa was very grateful for Celeborn covering their leave from the high table. He was not sure if he had been able to stand the sight of all the food for much longer. Somehow, it had suddenly reminded him about the times in Angband when he had been forced to watch others eat and himself not been allowed to have anything, or when he was about to be force-fed.

“My uncles do not joke at all when they say that I have an oblique approach to food because of my past life…”

Sometimes, in the middle of eating together with the family, it had happened that Rûsa suddenly had become nauseous and unable to eat anything more. It had gotten better over the years since his rebirth, but he seriously doubted that his food-related problems ever would go away fully no matter how long he lived.

“Are you all right, Rûsa? You did not seem to look too well earlier,” asked Saira and placed a hand on his shoulder when Rûsa supported himself with one arm against the corridor wall.

“Just not used to all the food dishes, and some of them are a bit more spicy than what I have grown used to. Back home in Formenos, it tends to be far fewer food dishes when it is something to celebrate…”   

Rûsa did not want to alarm Saira. The last thing he wanted right now, was a repeat of that first royal family dinner together eight years ago when the over-seasoned salmon had had made him lose his appetite completely.

“You are a bit sweaty on your forehead. Perhaps you need to cool down a bit with some ice-cream later at dessert, spicy food and a hot summer day like this does not seem to mix well for you.”

“Fair point…”  

Rûsa took a couple of deep breaths, hoping that his faint nausea would go away soon. He did not want to get sick because of his past life's poor eating habits now.

“It looks like the dessert will be any minute served now. Come, we have to hurry back before people notice that we are gone!”

Lucky, their short absence had barely been noticed at all among all the adult guests, busy with the food dishes and small talk to their table neighbours as they had been. When Rûsa and Saira sneaked back, it was just in time for dessert. The wedding cakes along with the fruit cravings that had been created into stunningly beautiful andedible confections were something that not even the most pious guests could find fault with; flowers, animals, watermelon ships and even a couple of fruit portraits of the bridal couple.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Once the wedding banquet were over, it normally would have been time for go to the ball room. But the neither Avarin Elves or the invited Dwarves saw it as a proper wedding without the bride and bridegroom taking place in any sort of outdoor games before the dance and thus ended up “stealing” away Rog and Maedhros out to the palace gardens for a small while. 

“Don't knock it o…”

Too late. Out of habit, Rog had put all of his physical strength in the throw and the throwing axe ended up knocking the straw target over.

“…over,” finished Durin with a badly hidden smile to the sound of laugher in the background from some of the other Avarin Elves. Rog smiled awkwardly while he blushed like a young boy.

“Watch out, good people, the red ribbons are out!”

Before Maedhros or Rog could escape, they ended up getting caught together by several Elflings, who bound them face to face by tying the long, red ribbons around their knees.

“Oh! Goodness, you aimed at us the whole time, didn't you?” wondered Maedhros with a laugh.

“To get free, you have to kiss each other!” answered one of the Elflings cheerfully, mindful to not try and pull too hard on the ribbon. With a smile, Rog and Maedhros kissed to the sound of cheers and clapping of hands.

“All right, kids, let them go now before they end up tripping.”

Nobody seemed to spot Narvi using a long ribbon to pull a surprised Celebrimbor down to her level and kiss him in the background, since everyone was focused on the bridal couple. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The ball room was filled with people when Rog and Maedhros came there. Being the bridal couple, they were meant to start the dance. Nodding to each other at hearing what sort of music it was, they started with a classical waltz as that would be a dance people would not have any problem with.

“To think that someone actually wanted that shameless _nis_ as wife, when she refuses to name the father of her brat…mmf!”

This time, it was Taurion himself who silenced the offender by covering his mouth. To add a little extra warning in his coming words, Taurion held up a tiny little hairpin against the other Elf's artery in the neck:

“I would not speak about princess Nelyafinwë in that manner if I were you, my good lord. After all, it is so horribly _improper_ to speak badly about a bride on her wedding day. Do I need to remind you that her lord father and brothers would not be above… _correcting _ people once they are not seen?”

Taurion spoke in a cheerful manner, but the warning was clear as crystal under the carefully spoken words.

“What a wonderful bridal couple,” smiled Eärwen to Nerdanel as Maedhros and Rog shifted dance from waltz to foxtrot.

“Yes, I was worried that Nelyo and Rûsa would face a lonely life because of all the rumours about him…” 

Soon, nearly everyone else was dancing as well. Maedhros found herself dancing with both several of her own male relatives and a couple of Rog's cousins. Since it was not so many women in the Noldorin royal family, Rog had fewer dance partners than his newly wedded wife.

“Okay, back to your bridegroom with you now before more people steal you away from each other, my sweet little princess,” laughed Fëanor and let go of Maedhros in the middle of a swing. Almost as if he had expected it, Rog was quick to catch his bride and right away, they fell into a tango movement without breaking their eye contact. Then, just as they stopped in rhythm with the music finishing, queen Indis could be heard calling:

“All right, everyone! Thank you for the fine dances, but it is time for the newlyweds to go now.”

Maedhros immediately froze at hearing those words. Her joyful mood over being a bride was quickly replaced with fear and terror as she looked around, desperately seeking for a way out of the ball room. She already knew that Rog would keep true to his promise that he would not touch her in the marriage bed until that she was ready, but everyone else would know that the marriage had not been consummated during the night. And the spiteful gossip that would result…

“ _But first, time for a final game that is called; Spot the real bride and bridegroom!_”

Without warning, the invited Avarin Elves started to dance around along with many others suddenly showing up from different places, all holding a large sheet or blanket in different colours.

“What…oh!”

Not only were Maedhros and Rog covered with two different sheets from behind and carefully pulled apart, many other guests were also covered. Those who were not were blocked from sight by the dancing Avarin Elves who lifted their sheets and blankets as high as they could in rhythm to the dance steps.  

“As much as we enjoy learning about your ways in marriage, this is not the right time for such…childishness!” protested Finwë with a hint of annoyance while pulling off the green sheet that had been thrown over him. Looking around, he did not see his granddaughter and her bridegroom anywhere.

“Nelyo? Where did you go?”

A glimpse of the silver edge on a light blue sari from the doorway caught his eye. Nodding to Indis, the Noldorin royal couple tried to catch Maedhros from running away.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

They could spot glimpses of either Maedhros or Rog from time to time. A faint movement that revealed her copper-red hair. A teasing giggle around a corner. Her light blue sari standing out along a longer corridor. His white hair getting loose from the high pony tail. A cream-coloured shoe in a corner.

“Not even Fëanáro and Nerdanel acted like this on their wedding….oh?”

They stopped in front of a closed door, where another cream-coloured shoe was laying.

“The bridal chamber…” said Indis when she recognized the pattern on the door, this was the bridal chamber where every wedded couple in the Noldorin royal family had consummated their wedding night. 

“I guess that they wanted to get there on their own, without a lot of people following them…” muttered Finwë awkwardly without looking on his queen, suddenly feeling stupid for what he had said in the ball room. Almost as a proof, a female laugh could be heard from the other side of the closed door alongside the faint sound of jewelry being thrown to the floor.

“Let's leave those two lovebirds alone. Who knows, in a year we might have a new great-grandchild.”

“Yes…”

But only a few minutes after that Finwë and Indis had left in order to return to the ball room, three pairs of young women from the Wood clan and youths from the Sand clan carefully peeked out by the door. All six of them were wearing clothes in similar colours to what Maedhros and Rog had been wearing, even having coloured their hairs from their natural hair-colour to light red by using henna and white by powdered limestone mixed into a paste for hair-colouring.

“Ha, ha! They really fell for this trick! They failed to see that it was not really the bride and bridegroom in the distance that we put up.”

“Come on, we can not let people see us in here…”

“Where is that small vial with animal blood that chieftain Taurion gave us…ah, there it is.”

Closing the door again and with the other four staying guard in case people would come to the bridal chamber again, one pair hurried over to the large bed, moved back the quilt and then laid down on the bed. Choosing a good spot, the girl carefully dropped down a couple of blood drops on the sheet.

“Why do they insist that the bridal couple have to consummate their wedding night on the very same night as the wedding is beyond me. Have they not heard about a bride being too nervous or flat out scared for this moment to the point that she does not feel ready for this intimate act?”    

“Hush, we have to hurry and get out from this chamber before someone comes back.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Outside Tirion in the Avari clan camps, it was much more lively than inside the royal palace. Bonfires had been lit, laugher and singing was filling the air as many couples danced together.

“All right, help me take off this niqab from my law-daughter and the other one from my son. No one up back at the royal palace seems to have spotted yet that they has been spirited away, thanks to our custom of having prepared doubles for the bridal couple as part of the “ _spot the right bride and bridegroom_ ” play that we so enjoy doing at weddings,” requested Rána as she started to take off the niqab from Maedhros. Beside her, Valsûl carefully put down Rûsa on the ground.

“Sorry about picking you up like that, kid, but we did not want to risk that the royals would ask you to spot your mother.”

“Warn me next time it will happen, okay? I do not like to suddenly be picked up from behind like that,” asked Rûsa in a less than pleased voice while smoothing out his Sherwani with his hands. Maedhros bent down and hugged her son to cheer him up a bit.

“Go and enjoy yourself, honey. Just don't get drunk or you risk getting a sugar rush from something too sweet like those desserts you tasted, okay?”

“Ammë, I am not a child! I have slowly started to get better control over my sugar rushes over the years, remember?”

Maedhros laughed, then smiled as she gave Rûsa a good night-kiss on his forehead.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

They were led away to a tent that was set up much more privately than the other tents around. There was a small walking distance from the nearest tents, and twelve warriors dressed in full battle garb, a male and female from each one of the six clans, were standing guard around the tent.

“It is to ensure that you really get full privacy from those fools who insists on that you must consummate the marriage tonight on the wedding night,” explained Rána while carefully washing away the Fëanorian Star made out of henna on Maedhros' forehead.

“We will have horses and other travel items ready at dawn for you, so you two and Rûsa can sneak back towards Formenos before it becomes clear that you are not in the bridal chambers.”

“Thank you, father,” said Rog and hugged his parents to show his gratitude for all their efforts.

“When Rûsa starts showing signs of tiredness, please bring him to the Wood clan's camp. He has been sleeping in the family tent with Taurion, Atara and their unwed children before,” Maedhros informed her law-parents, before Rog took her hand and led her inside the tent that they would be spending their first night as a married couple. Even if they did not consummate their marriage tonight, they would be seen as lawfully wedded by Avarin customs by the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Remember the earlier mention that the Metal clan is India in culture and Eastern Europe in appearance? I tried to show it here with the foods. Harira is a traditional soup of Algeria and Morocco. Pirogi are filled dumplings of East European origin. Ratatouille is a traditional French Provençal stewed vegetable dish. A niqab is a cloth that covers the face as a part of sartorial hijab.


	29. An unusual book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa finds a way to reveal the horrors of Angband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: The end of this chapter includes part of a flashback scene from chapter 4 in Painful Meetings

Year 45 of the Fourth Age, in the Halls of Aulë:

_Clash!_

The sound of metal being forcefully shoved down on the floor and an angry scream was heard from one of the forges where very young Elves were being tested to see if they had any talent in becoming a blacksmith. It was not unheard of that the skills of a blacksmith were shown in a early age, and many was the parents who sent a son to the Halls of Aulë to see if their son were worthy of being trained there.

“ _Now, now, young Rûsa. What is happening to make you start having a_ _tantrum like this?_ ” asked Aulë as he entered the forge. The young red-haired Elf, only a half-grown youngling on 35 years, looked up from the wooden workbench. He was crying bitterly in frustration.

“What it is that is wrong?! Everything! Every single iron piece that I am working to shape, becomes…becomes…”

Rûsa did not want to say it, the memories from his past life burning in his mind as Aulë placed a supporting hand on his shoulder.

“ **…a weapon from Angband in some way…!!** ” Rûsa finally managed to whine, crying so hard that he was nearly unable to speak. Aulë nodded in understanding, this sort of reaction was not the first one he had seen among former slaves from Angband, especially those who had been forced to help forging weapons to kill their own kin in the many wars that had haunted the First Age.

“ _Did you throw all of them on the floor because of the memories they brought up?_ ”

Rûsa nodded, glaring towards a half-lit corner of the forge where several unfinished iron pieces laid in a pile. Aulë patted him comfortingly on the shoulder, mindful to not use too much power or he would end up knock the young Elf to the floor by mistake.

“ _You can leave early for dinner. I will ensure that no one sees these._ ”

Bowing lightly on his head as respect for the Smith Vala, Rûsa removed his leather apron and left the forge.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

There were not many people in the dining hall yet when Rûsa arrived there. He knew that the food would not be ready yet in a hour, so he went to one of the huge bookcases at the end of the dining hall to pick out a book to read during the wait. He chose a simple book about Aman's fauna that he recognized as one of the family's common favourites, his ammë had often read it for him during the first years after his rebirth to teach him about the different animals that he would see.

“Not having a good day, lad?”

It was Narvi who had spoken, Rûsa looked up from his book to see her carrying a wicker basket with something inside. He shook on his head.

“My hands form weapons from Angband out of habit. It is so beaten into my body and mind that I do it without thinking…”

Rûsa sighed deeply as he tried to not start crying in despair again, then suddenly smacked the book against his forehead.

“Stop that, Rûsa! Aunt Nelyo would be worried if it looks like you are harming yourself!” protested Celebrimbor at seeing what his younger cousin were doing and quickly took away the book from Rûsa before he hit himself with the book a second time. Rûsa did not care to protest, just simply let Celebrimbor take the book. He had been around this age when Sauron had taken him from the mines to the forges in Angband.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_It had been so unexpected. In one moment he had been focused on collecting iron ore in the baskets along with the other slave children, then out of the blue a large hand had suddenly grabbed his hair to drag him out of the mine._

_“Let go of me! Let go, let go!!”_

_Screaming and kicking under loud protests that echoed against the walls,_ _Rûsa had clawed on the Maia's hand and tried to get free, but it was all in vain. In that painful manner, Sauron had dragged him along the underground corridors down to another part of Angband._

_“Teach this brat how to make weapons. He has the blood of blacksmiths in his blood, so he should not be completely useless in a forge.” commanded Sauron and more or less threw Rûsa into one of the forges. Rûsa landed on the hard floor, trying to catch his breath as he rolled over. He froze as a tall shadow fell over him and failed to escape as a Orc took hold of his hair again._

_“No…no, no, no, no!!! I don't want to make weapons,_ _I don't want to!!”_

_Despite Rûsa's best attempts to get free, he was unable to do anything as he was forced to kneel on the hard floor so another Orc could attached a collar around his neck, a collar bound to the forge with a long chain._  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

That had been one of the last times he had allowed himself the humiliation of openly crying in front of Sauron, Rûsa remembered with a shudder, unless he counted the desperate pleading to Morgoth to let him take the punishment Maeglin would have been given if she had been re-caught before she had gotten back to Gondolin and the Fall of Gondolin where Maeglin had died. By that time he had not known which blacksmith Sauron had meant, but now he knew; his maternal grandfather Fëanor and his law-father Mahtan.

“Arda to Rûsa, you are being absent-minded again.”  

Rûsa clearly had not expected a seat cushion to be thrown at his face, knocking him off the sitting bench.

“Ow!”

Lucky, his fall was cushioned by the thick carpet that was covering the whole dining hall expect for around the tables and benches. Looking up, Rûsa saw that it had been Maeglin who threw that cushion at him.

“It is the guest table you are sitting at. I do not think you normally sit there.”

“And I believe that this belongs to you, my lady.”

Without any warning, Rûsa suddenly threw the cushion back at Maeglin who swiftly ducked for it. But she still accepted the challenge. Before long, the black-haired granddaughter of Fingolfin and the red-haired grandson of Fëanor had gotten involved in a two-person pillow war, throwing seat cushions at each other while throwing friendly insults.

“Am I the only one who suddenly gets reminded about _our_ early relationship back in the Second Age?” whispered Celebrimbor to Narvi in a attempt to not start laughing at the scene. Narvi gave him a smug smile in return at the memories he mentioned.

“Although to be fair, you had a very good reason to slap me at our first meeting when you spotted my pointed ear. It was just not the best movement, seeing that the slap caused me to lose balance and we both ended up falling into the river because I was carrying you in my arms.”

Narvi laughed just as a stray seat cushion flew over her and ended up hitting Celebrimbor this time.

“Sorry, cousin Tyelpë! Aim was a bit off on that one!” yelled Rûsa as he chased Maeglin out of the dining hall.

“I prefer a cushion over anything sharp thrown against my face…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Meanwhile, Maedhros and Rog were having a secret visit to Yavanna in the Pastures of Yavanna.

“It is not that we doubt either's ability to conceive, we just want to have a extra check before anything happens,” explained Maedhros from the bed she was laying on while a warm green light glowed on her stomach as Yavanna checked on her.

“ _Fair point. And I think you two do the right thing in waiting a little with children, given your family's history with many offspring, princess._ ”

“I do not think my wife would be too fond of having seven children,” said Rog, from where he was carving out something from a small wooden piece with a small knife.

“Nope. I am perfectly all right with a small number, only two or three after my oldest boy, thank you.”

Maedhros shuddered in memory of hearing rumours that she would have been impregnated by Rog already on the wedding night or shortly after, given how many children her own parents had ended up having; how people had looked at her with serious attention for the slightest sign on that she was pregnant. To many people's disappointment, it had been no such signs yet in the fifteen years that had passed since the wedding. And lately, it had been some nasty rumours that Maedhros actually was unable to have more than one child, that something had happened at Rûsa's birth to make her infertile and that his unknown father was the reason to it.

“ _Really, I just can't understand why other Elves insists on humiliating the House of Fëanor in this way, as the Allfather himself has forgiven you for the deeds you once did in the First Age…_ ” Yavanna sighed in a sad voice, removing her hands from Maedhros and letting her sit up on the bed. Two of her Maiar returned Maedhros' clothes to her. Rog had already been checked over before his Fëanorian wife.

“How does it look?” asked Rog out of natural curiosity.

“ _It looks good with both of you. No signs on that it would be any problems with_ _either's ability to conceive. You might have to be prepared that Nelyo's body may react quicker on possibly pregnancy once you really start trying for children, given that she already has given birth once, even if it was in her old body._ ”

They both nodded. When it was time for a Elf to be reborn, the Valar normally formed the new body after the old one, minus scars and other kind of injuries that the Elf had in the first life. So it did not surprise Maedhros or Rog that her body would bear signs of her pregnancy with Rûsa.

“Thank you for checking, so we can find a way to get those rumours away.” said Rog and bowed.

“ _As if there would be any truth of infertility in a huge family as the Noldorin royal family._ _Rather the opposite: Too many offspring already in the Years of the Trees!_ ” said Yavanna, throwing up her hands to show her point. Maedhros nodded in agreement, she had never really understand why her paternal grandfather, her own father and two uncles had insisted on having so many children. After all, Finwë had ended up getting no less than sixteen grandchildren from his three sons alone!

“Which is why Haru Finwë has **_finally_**   set a limit of the number of coming great-grandchildren from each one of us: only three Elflings from each one! And my own Atar has said that Tyelpë and Rûsa do not count in that order, seeing that they both were born in the Years of the Trees…” informed Maedhros as she buttoned her undershirt. She was not shy about letting Rog see her naked body, that was part of being married after all, but it was late autumn and she had taken a couple of extra clothing along in case of frost in the mornings. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

After dinner, which had been a very welcomed warm stew now when the days grew shorter as a sign of the coming winter, Rûsa found himself sitting at one of the many fireplaces in a gathering hall. Having chosen a comfortable chair to sit in, he started to make a design in his drawing book that he had gotten from Valsûl a couple of years before.

“No…that does not fit…I need a model…”

Looking up, he saw that Maeglin was sitting in another corner alongside some other youngsters from the Metal clan. Yes, he could use them as a basic set of models for the drawing, if he just changed the view and lighting in the drawing a bit. He also had to make sure that he did not draw their faces, instead he would leave the faces blank outside the eyes filled with despair and hopelessness.

“Maeglin? Do you and your friends have time to sit as models for my drawing? I just need to draw down the basic positions…”

To Rûsa's great surprise, they actually agreed to it. He described the various positions that he wants to see everyone into, at the fireplace so he got a good light on their bodies. They did not need to take off any clothes either, he just wanted the basic positions for several drawings he would colour later.

“What are you planning to use the drawings for, Rûsa?”

“Nothing special, I just want to train a little on how to draw.”   

Once he had finished the last sketch, Rûsa thanked for their help. He was sure that the drawings would be easier to make now. He then spent the remaining part of the evening to make full drawings. In fact, Rûsa even had fallen asleep over the table at the time when Aulë himself checked one last time on that all of his young Elvish apprentices had gone to bed.

“ _Young Rûsa? It is time for bed. It is not very pleasant to sleep over the table like that…oh?_ ”

Aulë stopped his hand from touching the sleeping Rûsa and instead picked up one of the drawings. In the upper part of the drawing as part of the background, Sauron's face was seen laughing cruelly as chained slaves, of either Elvish, Mannish or Dwarven kin were being led away in long lines while trying to avoid getting hit by the whips in Orcs' brutal hands. Old shame and sorrowful regret over losing his finest Maia to Morgoth filled Aulë at seeing how low Sauron had fallen.

“ _Oh, Mairon…how could you fall like that? What did I do wrong in teaching you your skills…or was it your desire for perfection that started it all…?_ ”

Looking at the other drawings that Rûsa had made over the evening, Aulë suddenly got a idea for how the former slaves of Angband might reveal their memories and life as slaves to the rest of Aman without having to show their faces. Carefully picking up the sleeping Rûsa and carrying him in his arms, Aulë would tuck him into bed before showing the drawings to the other Valar and tell them of his new idea.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A couple of months later in the royal palace of Tirion, late winter in the 46th Year of the Fourth Age:   

“Agh! I can not stand it anymore, Finwë! This can't go on anymore! People at our own court are insisting on that you **_have_** to ban this new book before their older children starts questioning about what really happened in the First Age to the Exiles…!” Indis complained out loudly, walking agitatedly around the chamber while her husband was sitting in his reading chair at the fireplace, currently busy in reading just that book in question, entitled _Unshed Tears of Blood_ , that she was talking about.

“That again?” asked Finwë in a tired voice, without looking up from the book. He knew that many moral guardians among the Eldar were upset about this mysterious book that had no author that they could sue for “disturbing images and appalling crimes against morality”, and that revealed the true horrors of Angband for those who had never seen it with amazingly detailed drawings. The Noldorin High King had originally not planned to read the book, but he had found himself drawn to the drawings inside the book, showing exactly what the Eldar had been spared from when the Valar had brought them to Aman.

“Yes…honestly, this is even worse than those horrible rumours that Russafinwë was the secret love-child between Nelyo and Finno, despite that he is married to Rilel and already has a fine heir in their son Gil-galad!” Indis groaned while rubbing on her temples to try to thwart the headache that was coming, knowing already that it would be a lost case for the moral guardians if her own husband were seen reading the book.

“Yesterday I had a dream where Lord Irmo told me to read the book in order to truly understand why Nelyo has changed so much. I do not like the details either, but sometimes we have to see the ugly truth rather than a false lie that everything was fine.”

Turning the page, Finwë paled at seeing a very realistic drawing of a torture chamber in Angband. It was impossible to see if the chained Elf in the middle of the drawing was male or female, but the bleeding wounds after a whip was clearly seen on the thin body horribly marked by starvation.

“Indis, my dear, please pass this message on to the court from me: _I will not allow mockery of the horrors under the Dark Lords' hands around the Avari clans._ They have faced something that we were spared from here in Aman, and by refusing to think that they deserve compassion for what they once went though, we are only making a horrible disservice to ourselves by thinking that we are better just because we went free from a life in slavery.”

“I have learnt my lesson from Nelyo's outburst of anger 20 years ago in Alqualondë. I won't let myself be so narrow-minded again.”

Indis made a quick curtsy in good-bye to Finwë, who seemed determined to finish the unpleasant book despite the fact that the High King clearly was feeling unwell at seeing the nightmarish images. And it did not help that the drawings were made as if seeing though someone's eyes and the text being the watching person's thoughts.

“Oh, by the way, honey; my uncle Ingwë told me in a letter this morning that he has ordered _Unshed Tears of Blood_   to be a obligatory book in the history lessons about the First Age for the Elflings aged 30 and up, despite the protesting outcry from the most pious Vanyar,” said Indis from the door.

“Then I would not be surprised if Olwë might share my plan to do the same within the following days…” answered Finwë somewhat absent-minded, and turned to the next page. This time, it was a drawing of Sauron taking away a newborn infant while two Orcs held back a crying and pleading mother by her arms, her eyes filled with dawning despair and horror as she tried in vain to take back her child from Sauron. The text, meant to mirror the mother's thoughts, read in an inner voice of pure terror-filled panic:

_NO, NO! DON’T TAKE HIM, PLEASE! GIVE HIM BACK! GIVE BACK MY SON!_

Unknown to Finwë in that very moment, he had just came as close as he could get to the truth about Rûsa's birth, as Maedhros had revealed her own feelings about having the newborn Rûsa taken away from her in that drawing.

 


	30. New life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new member arrives in the family

Year 60 in the Fourth Age, the Wood clan's camp outside Formenos:

“Ow! Ow, ow, ow…” Rûsa moaned in pain despite the pain-killing drink he had been given earlier, feeling the ink going deep into his skin by the cut design from earlier, as Rog carefully pushed him back down on the pillows.

“Almost finished, just one or two rubbings more.”

At his current age of 50 years old, half-way on the path to their coming-of-age at age 100 years, Rûsa and his Avari peers had been offered the change of earning a “family tattoo” as it was called among the Avari clans. It was not obligatory, but about 99 % of the Avari youngsters of both genders chose to get a family tattoo as a sign of respect for their family and culture. 

“They did not joke about that it stings, but it is really far more pleasant than getting marked with a slave brand…ow!”

Because of the fact that he by Avarin views, had two different fathers in his biological father Taurion and stepfather Rog, Rûsa had chosen to be tattooed with the Fëanorian Star instead as a sign of his mother Maedhros' family, as he did not want a argument over whatever he would wear a family tattoo with Taurion's or Rog's symbols.  

“There, finished.”

Rog carefully helped the Wood clan's tattoo master to clean off the leftover ink from Rûsa's shoulders. Now they would place a sterilized cloth over the tattoo to prevent possible infections and wrap a bandage around Rûsa's torso in order to let the design heal over the coming weeks. Rûsa would not be allowed to do anything of heavy work with his back, or there might be a risk that the tattoo would be misshapen in its final shape after removing the bandage.   

“About time…I am sorry for tensing up like that, but a part of my former slave mind reacted on instinct when the dagger started to cut up the first part of the design…” said Rûsa in a faint voice and slightly turned on his head to see over his shoulder.

“You are not alone to react like that, kid. It took nearly five hundred years after his rebirth before chieftain Taurion felt brave enough to let me remake his own family tattoo without it bringing up too many memories of being a slave.”

Rûsa swallowed and tried to not shiver in faint horror, he could remember how it was to be cut with a knife by Sauron or one of the Orcs as punishment for something.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Once the bandage had been placed around his torso, did Taurion come over.

“I see that the tattoo making went well.” he said while sitting down on the sitting cushion beside Rog.

“Yes, ada. I just feel a little sore on my shoulder blades at the moment, think that I will be in more pain once the painkiller stops working…”

Rûsa made a face when he slowly shifted, trying not to reach over and touch his shoulder blades. Taurion put down a small leather bag at his youngest son's crossed legs.

“What is this?” Rûsa wondered in slight confusion, bending down a bit to get a better look.

“A special herb tea that is given to every youngster of both genders here among the Avari clans once they starts showing signs of maturing into adults. It is a tea meant for…ah!”     

Rûsa sneezed in reaction at the rather strong scent from the dried, mixed herbs. Closing the bag, Taurion started to speak again:

“As I was about to say, this tea is meant to help you youngsters keep control over your bodies and sexual reactions once you start mature in the body. We adults do trust you youngsters, but sometimes it can be hard to stay in control, especially if you get a very strong crush on someone. In order to avoid an accidental marriage at your young age, this tea was created. One spoonful of this herbal mix in boiling water as a tea every morning until the coming-of-age ceremony and there won't be a risk for a too early marriage.”

Rûsa nodded in understanding. Even if he was a adult mentally and already knew what sex was about from Angband, it still did not mean that he was not in need of The Talk even in this second life of his. It had been a rather awkward and seriously embarrassing moment for Rûsa to ask the adults in his family for more intimate details about She-elves and different kinds of relationships that he had not known about in Angband.  

“Rog! Rûsa! There you were!”

Celegorm came running, waving with one arm to catch their attention.

“Look whose coming here, one of my many law-brothers,” Rog joked with a smile at seeing his second law-brother.

“Good news! Rainiel has given birth! It is a girl!”

Rûsa lifted his head at the words.

“My cousin has been born!?”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_They had taken up the habit to at least try and visit Tirion once a year. Not just for the family peace, but also to show that the House of Fëanor still was in their power position as the House created by the Noldorin crown prince._

_“There you are. Welcome, welcome.” Finwë greeted in joy over seeing them for the first time in several months' time._

_“Hello, Haru Finwë. I hope that nothing strange has been happening since our last visit?” Maedhros asked with a small smile as she hugged him._

_“Outside the normal paperwork as High King and courtiers trying to make my unwed descendants married to either their own sons or daughters? Nope, nothing much…oh? Goodness, is this young Rûsa?”_

_Mentally, Rûsa made a face at being called young. Since he had started an ongoing growth spurt that likely would finish in his adult height, a lot of people had commented about his new height in the same manner. While it was nice to finally stop having to look upwards when people talked to you and being more on their own eye level, he had heard several comments lately about that he needed to stop growing before he become yet another one of the giants in the Noldorin royal family._

_“Ha, ha, I guess that some things do not change in my firstborn's family even in the generation of his own grandchildren!”_

_Much to_ _Rûsa's private embarrassment, Finwë did indeed try and lift him despite that he was far too big for that kind of things now with his current height. The High King was strong even if he did not do military training like his sons and grandchildren, but Rûsa was only too grateful over that he was wearing long robes today, or it would have been seen that he was forced to stand on his toes in order to make it look like Finwë was lifting him up. Maedhros, who remembered a similar event in her own youth before her final height on 205 cm, was quick to whisper to him in Avarin Sindarin:_

_“Not a sound about that your growth in your first life were stunted by life-long starvation and that you already has grown past the shortest one of your uncles despite that you are only 42 years old still, son!”_

_Lucky, Finwë let go of Rûsa before things got more awkward for him. Then a soft voice was heard from the door:_

_“I heard that lady Nelyo and her family is here, great-grand…”_

_Saira stopped talking and blushed when she caught sight of Rûsa, who looked really awkward now at actually having to look down on her. More than one of the adults could suddenly feel the new awkwardness between the two youngsters, especially in sight of how different things had been 30 years ago at their first meeting when Saira had been the taller one of the duo. Rûsa's new body was younger than Saira by one decade, yet he was already towering over her now._

_“Pretty the…opposite of our first meeting, remember?” Saira finally managed to say, to which Rûsa could only laugh nervously in answer._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back inside Formenos in the healing wings, Maglor were nearly overjoyed over that he had just become a father to a healthy and strong little girl. Judging from the test of her lungs earlier at the first cry, the little one had inherited her parents' strong voices fit for singing.   

“Take it easy now with the singing, dear brother, unless you want to give your newborn daughter a sound shock,” laughed Maedhros softly as Rainiel were cooing at her small daughter, who looked a little confused over everything that happened in the chamber. Fëanor, still smiling over the news that he had became a grandfather for the third time, took the duty of trying to make Maglor silent for a moment or two.

“Ow!”

There was a sound of someone hitting the forehead against the door frame, and a muffed curse in pain as reaction.  

“Careful there, nephew. And try to watch your language around your little cousin now,” they could hear Celegorm say.

“I know, uncle…”    

Now at the age of 50, Rûsa had finally stopped growing like a weed and reached his full height, standing at a final 2 meters tall which made him one of the tallest members in the Noldorin royal family outside Argon, Turgon, his mother Maedhros and Galadriel. The contrast between him and fully grown adult Elves of shorter statue was often amusing, especially as Rûsa still was in the beginning of puberty and had yet to gain his full muscle mass instead of being slender as all young Elves were in preadolescence.

“Aunt Rainiel?”

“Come over here, Rûsa, and meet your little cousin Lindë instead of standing there in the door,” offered Maedhros from where she was sitting beside Rainiel on the bed. Rûsa came into the chamber with hesitant steps, for he had rarely been around so young Elflings back in Angband after his own time as a toddler there. In fact, being around a newborn actually frightened him a bit. Sitting down beside his mother and taking off the eye veil to see better, Rûsa took a closer look on his newborn cousin in his aunt's arms. In his eyes, she reminded more of a doll because of her small size. Even if little Lindë still was that ugly cute as most newborns would be, she was far more beautiful than any infant Orc that he had spotted at times.

“She is tiny.” Rûsa said, not trusting himself to say anything else. That earned him a fond smile from his mother and aunt.

“Yes, she is, but she will grow faster than you think. Do you want to hold her?”

Rûsa's scared face would almost have been comical-looking, had it not been for the real fear in his eyes.

“I will drop her!”

“You will not, she is not the first newborn little being you have been holding over the past 48 years since your rebirth. Stop fussing now and hold her like Rainiel is doing. Make sure to support her head.”

After a couple of minutes where Maedhros calmly had dismissed his attempts to avoid it, Rûsa did end up holding Lindë. It looked even more awkward because of how tall Rûsa had become, since Lindë looked even smaller in his arms. It was clear that he was scared for harming her in some way, yet Lindë did not seem to mind the fact that her older cousin was so nervous with her. Instead, she simply yawned and went to sleep because it is a lot of work to be born, which immediately got him to relax a bit.

“See? Not that dangerous, sweetheart.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

That night, Rûsa dreamed. But it was not one of his normal dreams or nightmares about Angband. No, he dreamt about how things might have been, if Maedhros had managed to escape from Angband early in her pregnancy with him and how he might have grown up differently in the First Age, as the firstborn son and heir to the High Queen of the Noldor. A crown prince growing up without a father, perhaps, but people still speaking about Taurion with respect as the father of the Noldorin Crown prince. He saw himself in battle against the forces of Angband at his family's side, in all the historical battles where he in reality had been fighting against them. He saw himself travel in Beleriand and meeting Maeglin outside Nan Elmoth…

“Rûsa! Wake up, it is morning! Don't oversleep, you have morning lessons with master Rumil in little less than a hour!”

Rog's voice from the kitchen downstairs woke him up from the dreams. However, Rûsa still smiled despite having to wake up in the middle of those dreams, feeling happier than what he had done for a while.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Some tribal cultures traditionally created tattoos by cutting designs into the skin and rubbing the resulting wound with ink, ashes or other agents; some cultures in modern times continue this practice, which may be an adjunct to scarification. Lindë's name can be found on realelvish dot net under the Quenya People Names - Occupation


	31. The reveal of the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros gets a reason to reveal her firstborn's true past

Late Year 74 of the Fourth Age. It was midwinter, just after Yue. All of Formenos was covered in thick snow, not that the Elvish residents complained about the weather.

“I am back!”  

Rûsa closed the front door after himself and Snowflake. They had been outside to bring in more firewood, since he had seen that it had been needed in the kitchen.

“Rûsa? When you are done, can you please come in here?” called Maedhros from the living room. Having a feeling that it would be something important, he hurried to lay the firewood on the right place in the kitchen and, just in case, added two logs into the central fireplace that warmed up the whole house by a system of pipes built into the walls.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Entering the living room, Rûsa saw that Maedhros was half-laying down on the sofa with a soft blanket drawn over her while Rog were sitting on a chair beside her. In fact, there was a strange light in Maedhros' grey eyes that he had not seen before. And there was an unfamiliar pride and joy in Rog's eyes as well.  

“What is happening? I hope that it has nothing to do with new rumours spread by the moral guardians among the Vanyar again, I am sick of hearing whispers that your marriage is immoral…” asked Rûsa as he sat down on a chair of his own. His mother and stepfather gave each other a knowing smile. Maedhros sat up straighter.

“No, honey, it is nothing like that It is something much better.”

“Rather, it is something that is important for our family.”

Rûsa raised a eyebrow with a small frown, he was not very fond of riddles because of that Sauron had loved to use them whatever the fallen Maia was about to mess with him in something.

“Does it have anything to do with ammë's sudden and odd craving for these dumplings that we were invited to taste, last time we were in the Halls of the Forefathers to visit Tyelpë and Narvi?”

“Yes; You are going to _be a big brother_ in eleven months' time, Rûsa.”

Rûsa froze in shock at what Maedhros said. He did not say anything, just gaped slightly as he tried to get the information to fit. Then, without warning, he slid off the chair in a dead faint.

“Well, that was one way to react on these life-changing news. I think we have found a way to make the feared Warg Rider be afraid for real,” commented Rog with a chuckle over the reaction of the teenager and checked on his stepson so he had not been injured in the fall.

“It is a notable difference between becoming a cousin and a big brother, you know that yourself.”

Rog smiled. One of the bigger differences between him and Maedhros was that he was a middle child out of three siblings where he was the only boy while she was the oldest and only girl out of seven siblings.

“Aye. No, Snowflake, your owner is fine. He just got a small shock.”

Shooing away Snowflake, Rog lifted up Rûsa and placed him on the sofa beside Maedhros. A small vial of smelling salts quickly returned the red-haired teenager to the living world. 

“Hello again, sleeping beauty.”

Rûsa looked around in confusion first, before remembering what had caused him to faint from shock.

“You are with child, ammë?”

She nodded, and Rûsa remembered the strange vision of his future half-siblings that he once had as younger. His face lightened up in a smile of pure joy as he hugged Maedhros.

“You are unusually cheerful by this news, sweetheart.” Maedhros said, catching her firstborn in a returning hug as well.

“It is because I wish to prove to people that I would never be like Haru Fëanor in his youth with great-uncles Fingolfin and Finarfin. The rumours about that I would act like him with any half-sibling fathered by Rog…”

Rog laid a hand on Rûsa's shoulder as comfort, understanding why he had stopped talking.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Over the next following months, as it became Year 75 of the Fourth Age, news about Maedhros' pregnancy were spread. As one could expect, not everyone was really happy over hearing that she finally was pregnant. Since it had gone 45 years since the wedding, many political opponents to the House of Fëanor had truly hoped that Maedhros never would have more children, as not all married couples ended up having children for different reasons. In fact, when they were on the family visit in Tirion during Maedhros' early pregnancy, things got a little extra ugly when three of the Sons of Fëanor overheard someone claiming the child as their sister was carrying, could not possibly be conceived by Rog and that she must have a secret lover that she committed adultery with behind his back.

“I know that you do not like those rumours about your sister, but was it really necessary to end up in a fist-fight like that?!” scolded Nerdanel in a displeased voice as she cleaned off the blood from Caranthir's broken nose with a wet handkerchief, giving Celegorm and Curufin angry looks over his head at seeing the obvious signs of that the trio had been involved in the fist-fight that the city guards had been forced to stop.

“It is our sister's honor and the peace in her marriage to Rog that they are threatening with such rumours, ammë! As if we would…ow!”

Celegorm groaned as a bandage was bound around one of his fingers by one of the royal healers, he had injured his hand during the fight. Nerdanel sighed heavily, before turning to Astarë who was binding a bandage around Curufin's head:

“Astarë, please try and work harder about a second child, so people can stop focusing those horrible rumours on Nelyo. And Tyelko, please try and find yourself a lady to wed sometime in the future.”

Two sets of grumpy protests were heard, while Caranthir knew that he was spared only because of the fact that Nerdanel knew about his secret marriage to Haleth back in the First Age.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As summer went into autumn, Maedhros and Rog soon found something about Rûsa that worried them greatly. He often showed signs of a possible panic attack at times, mixed with anxiety.

“I am scared! What if people starts rumours about that this child is ammë's true heir and that I am unworthy of my status as her firstborn!?” 

He started to have nightmares about Angband again that haunted him in sleep. And it was not just nightmares about his past life as a slave, nightmares about being revealed as the Warg Rider started as well. With such terrible nightmares like that, it did not take long for Rûsa to grow insecure and emotionally unstable.

“Rûsa, try and calm down, you will only stress up yourself even more…oh dear!”  

The scars in Rûsa's soul started to reveal themselves on his body, a sign of how distressed he really was and much he feared to be revealed as the Warg Rider. Within a few moments, Rûsa's face was nearly unrecognizable because of how the large scars covered him. There was nearly no original skin left in the layers upon layers of scars outside the V-shaped scar on his left cheek.

“Sweetheart…”

Coming over to him, Maedhros gently hugged her son. Rûsa whined as he started to cry in his mother's arms, never mind that he was almost exactly the same height as herself nowadays.

“You are most afraid of how the Noldorin royal family will find out about your past, right?” asked Rog in a tender voice, lifting up Rûsa's face a bit with his hand. Rûsa cried too hard to be able to answer without sounding like a fool, so he nodded weakly instead.

“Oh, Rûsa…you really still have to learn that you do not need to keep those fears for yourself. I know that some habits from your life as a slave is hard to break and that 64 years here in Aman is a very short time against the fact that you were nearly 600 years old at your death in the First Age, but you can always share fears like this to us. That is what parents are meant for.”

Rûsa held back a sob, trying so hard to speak clearly between his tears:

“I am so t-terrified of being forced into e-exile…o-of not being allowed to meet you a-again…or that they might order me to be k…k-killed because of my past as the Warg Rider…I k-know that the Halls of Mandos are here in Valinor, b-but it would still not be possible to see e-each other face to face!!”

Rûsa did not care at the moment that he was crying openly in front of his mother and stepfather, once he had started to tell it all came out in an unsteady flow of words and sobs. Maedhros hugged him tighter in a attempt to comfort her son, and felt how the growing child under her heart were kicking furiously.

“Now look what your tears has caused, sweetheart; from the brutal way I am being kicked from the inside, your unborn sibling is worried for you as well. I would not be surprised that if your brother or sister were already born, he or she would cry until you would hold the little one as proof that things are all right.”

As if to prove their common mother's words, Rûsa felt a faint little baby kick against his elbow. The small movement made him try to make a strained smile despite the tears and the scars faded back so he looked like himself again.

“I will talk with the rest of the family about this, my boy.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

When Maedhros sent errand boys to their homes and requested a family meeting as soon as they could arrive to her house, everyone in the House of Fëanor knew that it had to be something serious. And when they heard the reason to why, they were quick to agree with her.

“How much we would rather avoid it, Rûsa is right; we can't keep his past as the Warg Rider hidden forever. If we await a good time to reveal it carefully too long, there is an growing risk that one of us makes a unseen mistake by being too careless and someone uses that as blackmail.” said Fëanor in a serious voice as they all were gathered around the dinner table in Maedhros' and Rog's house. It was a little difficult to have a place each because of how many they were, but they managed it somehow.

“Haru Finwë and the rest of the family will arrive here to Formenos a few days before the birth. Would it not be a good time to reveal it then?” suggested Amras from where he was sitting between Maglor and Celebrimbor.

“Well…”

“Everyone else will be focused on that sister Nelyo would be close to her due date during those days, it should work,” explained Amrod to show what his younger twin brother meant.

“If one of the fine blacksmiths here in the family first fixes some extra locks on the inside of Rûsa's door so he can lock it from the inside, just in case one of our cousins loses his self-control because of memories from the battles where Rûsa was fighting against us, then we can breathe easy.”

Celegorm earned a smack on the head from Maedhros for those words, since Rûsa tried in vain to slide under the table with a distressed whimper at hearing what his second-born uncle said. As he was far too tall for be able to do so anymore, he ended up hugging Snowflake for comfort instead. Following him down on the floor, his 15-year-old little cousin Lindë tried to comfort Rûsa with a extra hug too, even if she had no idea why her paternal aunt had requested the family meeting, only that it was about her cousin.    

“The idea of adding more locks for his chamber for better safety, thank you for that, Tyelko. Otherwise I think that Pityo and Telvo has the best suggestion about the timing to reveal Rûsa's past as the Warg Rider. Or has anyone another suggestion about how to tell the rest of our family?”

“We should send word to Taurion about this plan and ask him to have the Wood clan's winter camp here at Formenos this winter, so he can help us in this.”

“A letter each to uncle Arafinwë, cousin Finrod, Gil-galad, Maeglin and Elrond too, as they are the only ones outside us to know that Rûsa is the former Warg Rider.”

Agreements were heard from the different branches of the Fëanorian family and their different spouses. Now when they had a general idea of what to do, they needed to plan every single step in the plan carefully.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Autumn passed by, and transformed into winter. Now there was little doubt that Maedhros soon would be due with her second child, around Yue. As she had wished to give birth in Formenos, the Noldorin royal family would arrive there to officially witness the second birth in the Fëanorian family since the Years of the Trees where both Celebrimbor and Rûsa had been born. 15 years earlier, Lindë had arrived a few days too early for the royal family to arrive in time to witness the birth.

“Thanks for guiding us, Taurion. As we have not been much in Formenos because of the more unpleasant memories that we link this place with, I would not be surprised if we had gotten lost,” thanked Finwë as Taurion rode ahead of the Noldorin royal family, with some of his sons as extra guides. The Wood clan chieftain looked over his shoulder, his heterochromatic eyes being somewhat hard to see in the falling snow with one black right eye focusing on the Noldor High King while his green left eye stayed on the snowy road.

“And I am very grateful for that it is only the family members and not the whole court that I have to guide. Don't take this personally, but some of your courtiers are, to put it frankly, absolutely _hopeless_ the moment they leave the city walls of Tirion.”

Behind Finwë, Fingolfin and Finarfin shared a laugh at Taurion's words, knowing how true that was after having been High Kings of the Noldor in both Aman and Middle-earth. He was blunt in a way that few of their courtiers ever would think to be against the royal family, much less directly to their faces. But the Avarin Elves had little respect for nobles, and in general only addressed the High Kings' families with the same respect as they would do to the family of a clan chieftain.

“Yet there is one thing that I find very odd in the letter inviting us to witness the birth of Nelyo's second child; why my firstborn son insisted on that only we would come and not bring any of the court along….”

Taurion and his sons immediately refused to meet anyone's gaze, knowing the reason to what Finwë talked about.

 

Fëanor welcomed his family inside the building that was the closest thing Formenos had to a palace. Having lived in a normal house in Tirion after the wedding between Fëanor and Nerdanel in their youth, the House of Fëanor never really liked to live in a palace and they had lived in fortresses during their time in Middle-earth during the First Age.

“Welcome to Formenos, everyone. My fourth grandchild is likely to be here any day now. Nelyo has complained a bit over back pains because of the weight, but otherwise she is fine.”

“Good to hear that, my son. We were a little worried that we would not arrive in time for the birth since it takes a little extra time when you travel during winter,” smiled Finwë and hugged Fëanor as stable grooms took away the horses that the royal family had been riding during the journey.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Because of that she tired very easily now, Maedhros greeted the family members from a sleeping sofa in a large meeting chamber where a fire burned in the fireplace. Even with laying back against her husband's steady form and with a winter blanket over her, it was clearly seen that she soon would be ready for giving birth.

“You are looking great, Nelyo. Eh…not in size, I meant, but in another way!” said Fingon at seeing her, which made Maedhros laugh.

“Finno, I have been big literally in one way or another all my life. I know what you tried to say. Rog, please move over a bit, I need to lay down.”

But while the rest of the Fëanorians greeted their relatives, Rûsa was the only one who did not. He seemed strangely nervous, because of that his hands were shaking and he was not seeing anyone in the eyes, along with that he seemed oddly pale under the natural tan on his skin. This behaviour was so unlike him that it was impossible to hide. And when Rûsa brought some water for his mother to drink, he tripped on the rug, breaking the glass that he had brought the water in.

_Crash!_

“Goodness! With that behaviour you have right now, one would think that you are the father-to-be and not the older sibling, Rûsa!” commented Finrod and helped him pick up the bigger glass shards. But Rûsa still did not say anything. Instead he was actuallytrembling in his whole body as he took the glass shards that Finrod had collected, his black eyes moving around the chamber as if he was expecting someone to attack him out of the blue.

“What is wrong with Russafinwë? He has never acted like this before around us,” wondered a confused Fingolfin when Rûsa stormed out from the chamber. Nerdanel and her children gave each other a nervous glare. This would not do, Rûsa was far too scared to be around the Noldorin royal family.

“Lindë, go and see if Rûsa needs a calming drink so he stops being so nervous. If he does, please go to the kitchen and tell the cooks about it so you can bring it to him,” requested Maglor gently to his daughter.  

“Yes, atto.”

 

Once his granddaughter had left and servants had served tea with a belonging light snack for the travellers, Fëanor pressed a hidden locking mechanism in the wall, and the doors to the meeting chamber were looked from the outside with some help of a thin thread that spun around the key.

“Please sit down, everyone. There is…something important that we need to tell you. A very, very important secret, to say it properly.” requested Maedhros in a serious voice as she was helped to sit up again.

“You are not expecting twins, I hope?”

“No, it is a secret that some of you might have been wondering about for a good while. It…is about Rûsa's father and why we did not tell you about my first marriage or my pregnancy with Rûsa…”

Maedhros could not say anything more, so Maglor took over for her:

“Have any of you ever wondered why Rûsa acts far older than his age at times? Like in that official history lesson in Tirion when he was able to tell details of uncle Ñolofinwë's last stand against Morgoth that would have been impossible to know, as uncle did not have anyone with him to the Gates of Angband and only cousin Turukáno saw his body up close after Thorondor brought uncle's dead body to a mountaintop overlooking Gondolin, and our cousin built a cairn over the remains of him?”

Everyone in the House of Fëanor shuddered at that memory. Rûsa had been careless at that time during the history lesson, and since he had witnessed the duel between Fingolfin and Morgoth at the Gates to Angband, it was only normal that he knew how the duel really had went.

“Yes. I remember overhearing the tutor accuse Atar of telling Rûsa the details so he could cheat on the history test, and how Rûsa tried to save Atar from the accusation…” said Argon, and Fingolfin nodded in agreement. That strange accusation had confused him greatly, even as the horrified Rûsa had been standing beside the two adults and desperately trying to tell the tutor that Fingolfin had not told him anything of the details at all.  

“That tutor was banned from teaching for a month, as everyone believed that he behaved unprofessional about that history test. How come?”

Maedhros and her family looked at each other.

“How old…do you think that my cousin is?” asked Celebrimbor, trying to keep his voice steady despite the shocking memories of when he had seen how similar Rûsa's face had been to Maedhros' back at the end of the War of Wrath when Finarfin's soldiers had caught him and then how they had unmasked his face inside the tent.

“Why are you all acting this weird all of sudden? Russafinwë is a normal 65-year-old who simply has some of the more odder behaviours that is not unheard of for children born to parents who once were enslaved in Angband…right?” wondered Indis nervously, not liking the way thisdiscussion were heading. Finarfin and Gil-galad made a clear point of not looking anyone in the eye, having spotted what this talk was about. Elrond focused on the tea cup in his hands, while Maeglin tried to blend into the shadows at the fireplace. Maedhros took a deep breath, holding Rog's hand for support as she raised her head and looked at her non-Fëanorian family members with eyes filled of mental pain and grief.

“Rûsa's date of begetting here in the Fourth Age is a lie, he is actually not born in Fourth Age year 10 at all. In fact, he is far, far older than that… _his real year of birth is_ _Year of the Trees 1498… because I gave birth to him in Angband_ about a year after I was captured in the trap that Morgoth was feigning as the surrender of a Silmaril. I was tricked into believing that he had been killed right after the birth…so I would not know that…that Rûsa… _that Rûsa was groomed by Morgoth into becoming the Warg Rider_.”


	32. Guilt and regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the others reacts to the truth about Rûsa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: This chapter contains a rather scary flashback from Angband. I would also suggest listening to the song What I've Done from Linkin Park while reading the chapter to get into the right mood

One had been able to hear a pin drop to the floor of the chamber, so shocking was the silence after Maedhros' words. 

“ _RUSSAFINWË IS WHO?!_”

The scream echoed in the small palace, quickly followed by several others voices:

“Your son is that… _that murderer,_ Nelyo!?”

“The healers' refusal to mention the full torture you had been given…the pregnancy and birth…was a part of it?”

“ ** _Who_** is the _ner_   that made you pregnant with his unholy spawn in Angband, Nelyafinwë?!”

“Why have you not said anything…”

“A lot of things around the Warg Rider suddenly make sense. Like mother, like son, both slaying their own kin...” muttered Turgon with frightening coldness in his voice, causing Fingolfin to command in a hard tone:

“Silence, Turukáno! Don't fall into that old habit of blaming your cousins for everything bad that happened to us in the First Age! Especially as we did not know of Nelyo were alive or dead before your brother brought her back!” 

As if protecting her from the harsh words and screams, Maedhros' parents and brothers tried to hide her in the middle of a family group standing. Maedhros herself did not say anything, holding her arms protectively around her heavily pregnant form and shaking in her whole body as she fell into memories from Angband that the words brought back…

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“NO!! No, no! Give him back…give him back…please…”_

_As the cold slam from the iron door echoed and faded into nothingness, Maedhros collapsed back down on the bed of rags where she had given birth, crying uncontrollably from both the remaining after-pains from the birth and from having her son taken from her. The two large Orcs were still holding her by the arms._

_“Give back my son…”_

_The slave-midwives did not dare to help her get free from the hold despite that it was already forming bruises on Maedhros' thin arms, they would be whipped without mercy as punishment if they tried. Instead all they dared to do was to send Maedhros quick glances of pity as they were ordered to look after another She-elf who was in early labour. That silver-blonde She-elf had given birth here earlier twice, bit the midwives knew that this child likely was going to be her last offspring as she was already dying from the harsh life as a breeding slave._

_“Give him back…”_

_Suddenly the door was opening again. This time, it was the Dark Lord Morgoth himself who entered the birth chamber. He went straight to where Maedhros lay, and grabbed hold of her long hair with one hand. Maedhros held back a cry of pain as she was lifted up by her hair, then shuddered in terror as Morgoth stroke a finger at her face._

_“I heard from Mairon that you have given birth to your father's second grandson, oh mighty High Queen of the Noldor.” _

_He was using her royal title to mock her, Maedhros knew this as she_ _had been subjected to that kind of mockery from the Dark Lord throughout her whole captivity, especially since she had become pregnant._

_“W-where is he? Where did you take my son?! Give him back!”_

_Her damaged vocal cords felt like they were on fire from all her earlier crying during the labour, and Maedhros had to fight in order to speak properly._

_“Oh, you want the brat back, huh? Funny enough, I was actually about to order just that.”_

_Morgoth snapped with his fingers, and Sauron returned back into the birth chamber. But there was something terribly unsettling about that cruel smile on his lips, making Maedhros tremble in even more horror than before._

_“G-give him back…please…please…give back my son…” Maedhros pleaded in tears as she saw the small bundle of rags move slightly in Sauron's arms._

_“You heard the High Queen's wish, Mairon.” ordered Morgoth. Then, a glimmer of a dagger was spotted in the light from the torches. As Maedhros realized what was about happen, she was filled with icy horror and screamed as she reached out for her child:_

_“NO!!!!”_

_But it was too late. The dagger was buried to the hilt into the newborn infant's little chest. There was a horrible little sound that sounded like a small breathing, and then Sauron dropped the bundle of rags to the stone floor. Blood ran out from the rags as Maedhros stared in disbelief on the scene._

_“No…Russa…NO, NO, NO!!! NOOOOOO!!!”_

_Maedhros felt as if her heart was about to shatter from horror and grief. She tried desperately to break out her fëa from her hröa in pure grief as reaction on seeing her own newborn child be killed in front of her very eyes, wanting nothing else than going to the Halls of Mandos where her son would have gone, but she did not understand why it did not work. In her violent crying and screaming, Maedhros only barely heard Morgoth order:_

_“Take her up to the higher levels. I have more plans for her. She is too_ _valuable as a political prisoner to kill.”_

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The horrible memory where she once had believed Rûsa to be killed, caused some of Maedhros' own scars in her soul to emerge on her body. For a couple of moments, she returned to how she had been looking in the First Age with all the scars that once had marred her.

“ _ENOUGH!!_   Stop shouting, all of you! I do not want to hear a sound from any of you before Nelyo has explained more of this!” yelled Finwë in a way that was unheard of for him. Everyone quickly went quiet at his order, not wanting to anger the family patriarch. Once it was quiet again Finwë turned back to the sofa where Maedhros lay. She was trembling too much to say anything, so Fëanor was the one to push forward a very old and worn out health report over the polished small table towards his father.

“Page 9, at the lower part of the page. Read it out aloud.”

The pages were very fragile from the passage of time that had went since the beginning of First Age, so Finwë had to be extremely careful when he turned the pages to the right one. The handwriting and ink was almost vanished, but the Noldorin High King could still see the text if he held up the page against the light that came from the fireplace:

_Cause of infertility: Serious damage to womb and ruined capability to a monthly cycle because of torture and extreme starvation, weak signs of having undergone possible pregnancy (?) in captivity _ 

There it was. The proof of Rûsa's birth that had been hidden away from the rest of the Eldar for nearly four long Ages of the Sun.

“Nelyo…”

“Get out…please get out, all of you…I want to be alone…” pleaded a crying Maedhros without changing the position she had put herself in, not even noting that Rog was gently hugging her in a attempt to give her comfort. They could all see that this was nearly breaking her, having to relive the horrible memories that haunted her so much. Without a word, did Fëanor open the doors again with the hidden locking mechanism in the wall.

“Please stay away from Rûsa until that you can trust yourselves to not do anything foolish around him. He is really terrified of being executed for his past as the Warg Rider,” requested Rog as he carefully lifted up Maedhros in his arms to carry her to another chamber so she could calm down.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa was sitting in a corner of a chamber not too far away from the meeting chamber where the Noldorin royal family were. With his knees up against his chest, he hid his face.

“Cousin Rûsa. Do you want some tea?”

It was Lindë, standing in front of him with a cup of tea in her hands. Rûsa shook on his head, not looking up on the black-haired little cousin in front of him.

“I cannot bring myself to eat or drink anything right now, sweet Lindë…I am sorry…maybe later…”

Lindë was worried. Her giant of a cousin never acted like this, and the adults had always told her that something was extremely wrong if he refused to eat. If she ever saw that Rûsa did not eat anything she had to tell someone of the adults, preferably aunt Nelyo and uncle Rog. And this seemed to be one such moment.

“You _have_   to drink something, you did not touch anything at lunch earlier after that we got words about that Noldorin royal family would arrive soon, cousin!”

To prove her point, Lindë tried to lift up Rûsa's face from his knees. When that did not work, she snorted irritated in a very Nerdanel-looking way and hurried out from the chamber to find one of the adults while calling out aloud:

“Ammë Rainiel! Atto Makalaurë! Aunt Nelyo! Cousin Rûsa is refusing to eat or drink anything _again_!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Finarfin had brought his branch of the Noldorin royal family to the guest chambers they had been assigned earlier at their arrival. There, he told them of how he had witnessed Maedhros' last two days alive back in the War of Wrath: his orders to capture the Warg Rider, how they had revealed his face behind the iron mask and Maedhros' painful confession to him that Rûsa indeed was her believed-to-be-dead son that she had birthed in Angband. Rûsa's desperate attempt to escape from the camp by using Maedhros as hostage, and how Maglor and Celebrimbor had returned with their dead bodies after they had been killed by the group of Doriath Elves led by Daeron.

“But Atar was not the first one in our family to have spotted the similarity. I did it long before the War of Wrath…” 

And Finrod told them of how he had seen Rûsa after being defeated by Sauron in the song duel, the shocking similarity the red-haired Elf had borne to Maedhros in face shape and hair, only with a darker red hair and black eyes instead of Maedhros' grey ones.

“I did not believe it at first, thinking it to be impossible…but as I was thinking more deeply about it…it all made sense,” finished Finrod with a bitter tone in his normally soft voice, mentally wishing that he had been able to send anything in words about Rûsa to Maedhros before his death.

“Gwindor? Are you all right?” asked Finduilas at seeing her husband sitting down in a chair, looking worried. There was a odd look in his eyes as he focused on the fire in the fireplace.

“I am fine, beloved. Just…just shocked. I remember seeing the Warg Rider many times during my fourteen years as a slave in Angband before escaping. I was afraid of him first, fearing that he would be someone who ensured that the slaves could not escape and yet…there was something different about him. I was soon told that he actually was a slave as well, only that the Dark Lord seemed to have given him a different task than working in the mines alongside the other slaves. I saw him often kill a slave out of mercy, ending their life quickly before the Orcs would give the slave a long, painful death. Or even treated the slaves' injuries himself when he found it safe to do, along with trying to fix more food for us when he could. Even without ever seeing his face thanks to that iron mask he always wore, we knew that we could trust him. In fact, when I managed to escape from Angband in a hidden tunnel, it also happened to be him on guard that day in the area at the end of the tunnel…I honestly believed for a moment that he would catch me, and yet he actually let me pass without even showing signs of moving apart from ordering me to not let myself be captured again. And now, to hear that he was the son of lady Maitimo all along…” Gwindor answered after a couple of moments where he went though the memories of the Warg Rider in Angband.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

On the other hand, in the guest chambers for Fingolfin's branch of the royal family, it was far from being quiet in shock over Maedhros' unexpected reveal. In fact, Maeglin and Turgon had entered a loud quarrel after she had heard him call Rûsa a savage, a heartless monster created from Morgoth's evil.

“He is and has never been a monster outside that battle madness that all seasoned warriors suffer from, uncle! Far from perfect as a Eldar, yes, but still someone who is related to us!” hissed Maeglin as Anairë and Aredhel held her back.

“Far from perfect? Maeglin, he is born in Angband, from an unholy union! Nelyafinwë was already strained by the First Kinslaying when she was captured, and to have her son fathered by a enslaved Elf like that…”

“Turukáno!” warned Fingolfin in a hard voice, not wanting to hear his second-born to talk about Maedhros like that as he often had done about the Fëanorians in bitterness over Elenwë's death at Helcaraxë. 

“None of the breeding slaves did conceive the resulting children out of free will! It was forced unions, caused by fertility drugs which Sauron had created especially for the breeding slaves, to make them mate with each other even if they never had met before! I was threatened with the fate of becoming a breeding slave during the torture that made me betray Gondolin!”  

Maeglin remembered with unspoken horror how both she and Rûsa had been forced to swallow one each of those fertility drugs by Morgoth and Sauron, so Rûsa would take her as his concubine in both word and act. She did not doubt that Maedhros and Taurion had been forced to do the same, in order to conceive Rûsa.

“He is still a _child born of sin_!!”

Turgon called Rûsa the Vanyarin word for a bastard child. Unknown to him, Maeglin had been called that at times after her rebirth by people who doubted that her parents' marriage was a real marriage. Unfortunately Aredhel had also been exposed to similar comments about her daughter and thus it made her really furious with her brother right now.

“ _ARE YOU CALLING BOTH MY DAUGHTER AND NELYO'S SON FOR ILLEGITIMATE CHILDREN, BROTHER!?!_ ”

“Ammë Anairë, Atar Ñolofinwë, are you two really sure that Turukáno is not a black-haired Vanyarin changeling that was swapped with our real brother shortly after birth!?” wondered Argon desperately out aloud while pointing at his quarrelling relatives, causing his parents to give him shocked looks as poor Fingon tried in vain to stop Aredhel from roughly shoving Turgon into the wall in anger and Maeglin stormed out while calling Turgon some of the most foul insults Eöl was fond of calling his middle law-brother out of earshot.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Meanwhile, the reason for most of the current problems in the royal family, had sneaked away from the small palace. Rûsa had hurried back home to Maedhros' and Rog's house, rushing inside without taking off his winter boots upstairs to his own sleeping chamber, leaving some snow inside the house after slamming the door shut. Once inside the sleeping chamber, Rûsa locked every single one of the extra locks that his maternal grandfather and stepfather had added to the inside of his door. Out of instinct, he also moved over his writing desk to block the door. When that was done and he had checked on the locked window for extra safety, Rûsa threw himself down on the bed, crying furiously as he buried his face in the pillow.

“This is even worse than in my nightmares…” 

He had heard the shouting from the meeting chamber, the words some of them had called him. It had reminded him more than ever how he had felt after the Fall of Gondolin; that horrible feeling of loneliness and powerlessness of his own destiny. Was it his fate to always be a outsider? To never truly belong wherever he found himself to be?

“All I ever has asked for…is a family that really care for me and a place where I belong…!”  

Rûsa cried even harder, not bothering to look up when a shadow showed up in the window, half-thinking if he could spare some thought for it that it likely was one of his older half-brothers standing on guard around the house to warn him in case someone from the Noldorin royal family came close to the house.


	33. Changes in life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa fears greatly for what will happen for him now when the Noldorin royal family knows the truth about his past, and Taurion tries to protect his youngest son

Rûsa was not aware of how long he cried, only that it slowly drained him of energy and soon made him fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion from all the crying. But even in sleep, there still ran tears down along his cheeks. In that position he laid in on the bed and crying in his sleep, he looked nearly impossibly young for someone who actually was 663 years old mentally while having the body of a 65-year-old Elvish adolescent. He whispered in sleep:

“ _Please…let them have mercy on me for my sins of the past…_ ”

What Rûsa had not seen was that it actually was Maeglin who was sitting at the window by a thick tree branch. Two of his older half-brothers were on the roof and sitting in the tree just below her. They knew that Maeglin did not mean any harm to Rûsa, but it still did not mean that they had put down their weapons for anything that meant harm to their younger half-brother.

“Such a difference when looking back on our short month together in Angband and seeing this…back then, he would never have dared to show this frightened side of himself…showing weakness was a invitation to being killed in that place…”

Maeglin sighed deeply. She wished that it was something she could do to help Rûsa in this matter, to show support for him just like he had done so many times in secret for the slaves in Angband. But it was so difficult, and she doubted that he thought himself worthy of something like that right now.

“Damn it all…,” she swore softly. “If only lady Maedhros had managed to escape before Rûsa's birth so he could have been born as the Noldorin Crown-prince before she gave up the crown to my maternal grandfather Fingolfin in a attempt to unite the Noldorin Exiles against the Fallen Vala…damn it!”

Maeglin hit the tree branch with her fist before starting to climb down. She had spotted some Elflings having a snowball fight at a nearby fountain and if they allowed her to play along, she would be very happy, since she needed a non-violent way of letting out her anger.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Finwë was standing at the window in his own guest chamber to look out on how everyday life went on outside. His head was spinning, his thoughts full of disbelief and horror over what his oldest granddaughter had revealed earlier. Like most Elves, he had only known about the Warg Rider as a rumour from Middle-earth, someone who people had been talking about in fearful whispers. He remembered his shock at seeing Rûsa for the first time 63 years earlier; a 12-year-old Elfling, tall for his age, with dark red hair and black eyes who had hide behind his mother out of shyness because of that it was the first time he had met the royal family. How was it possible that sweet Nelyafinwë, his firstborn grandchild, could have given birth to the Elf who had grown up as the most feared one of Morgoth's War Leaders?

“Lord Finwë?”

It was Taurion, carrying a small tray with some heated-up wine in a goblet for the High King. Finwë did not know why the Wood clan chieftain bothered with a task that a servant could have done, but he still welcomed the warm wine.

“Confused feelings about what your granddaughter revealed?” Taurion inquired.

“Yes. I know that her time in Angband changed her a lot from that sweet child she once was, but…to hear that she was forced to carry a child that was taken from her right after the birth…suddenly makes it all the more deeper and scarier than before…” Finwë sighed, sitting down in a chair. Taurion took away the goblet as he knew that the king would get another shock from what he was about to say.

“It is not pleasant to learn that it is your own youngest son who is the Warg Rider, either.”

“What?!”

Finwë turned around, and gasped when like for the first time, he truly saw how similar Rûsa was to Taurion; The same dark red hair, the shape of the nose and cheekbones, the right black eye that was so alike Rûsa's own black eyes.

“How…” Finwë started, but Taurion held up a hand to stop him from talking, not wanting to be interrupted.

“Fertility drugs that the Fallen Vala and Fallen Maia force-fed to all of the breeding slaves, especially those who revealed themselves to come from families with high fertility rates, in order to ensure hundred procent that it would be result in children born from the forced breeding. Your oldest granddaughter was an ideal She-elf for that sort of sick-minded slavery, with the large family that you created by your two different marriages, Sire. Rûsa is the youngest one of my fifteen children that I was forced to beget with different mothers after Atara and my two daughters were killed in the attack on the Wood clan when I was captured. I would not be surprised if it also was an indirect revenge against prince Fëanor as well, by having an unknown grandson of his fighting against his own family in the wars about the Simarils.” 

Finwë was now shaking in horror by the time Taurion finished recounting his story, and covered his face in his hands, now seeing the full picture of what must have had happened after his death in Formenos when he tried to stop Morgoth from stealing the three Silmarils, Fëanor's master work.

“Is there…any way I can try and make up for all of this?” he asked at last. “For my failure to protect my family from all the horrors and pain that my death caused…? To really make Rûsa one of us, despite how he was begotten from coercion between Nelyo and yourself, Taurion?”

Taurion did not answer first, but instead held up a sword towards Finwë who looked at him in confusion, his face serious.

“Have Rûsa swear an oath of fealty to your authority as the Noldorin High King. He may already have sworn one twice, one oath each to his maternal grandfather and mother as the two Heads of the House of Fëanor and House of Maedhros, but he will truly show his regret over his past life by swearing his fealty to the Head of the House of Finwë as well.”

Suddenly understanding what Taurion meant by having Rûsa swearing an oath of fealty, Finwë tried to keep his own hands from shaking too much as he took the sword.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By now, Maedhros had finally stopped crying and calmed down from the fit of crying that she had gotten earlier from the horrible memories where she had believed her son to be killed in front of her very eyes.

“By the Valar…it was so hard to say the words about his birth…and to hear what they then asked…”

“We know, beloved Maitimo, we know. It was hard for us too,” said Nerdanel soothingly on her right side, holding a handkerchief which she used to wipe away her daughter's tears whenever new ones came.

“It really was a wise decision to not let Rûsa be in the meeting chamber when we revealed his past, for I think there could have been a serious fight if someone had tried to grab him. We would have rushed to his defence,” said Rog while braiding his wife's copper-red hair into small braids. Maedhros nodded weakly to what her husband said. The whole House of Fëanor had grown very protective of Rûsa since the first revelation that he was her son, especially given how vulnerable Rûsa was at times because of his first life as a slave in Angband during the First Age.

“Help me stand up, please. If I know my son right, he likely has locked himself inside his sleeping chamber at home. I do not want that Rûsa is alone during the time that…ow!”

Suddenly Maedhros hissed in pain and bended forwards, holding her left arm against the stomach out of habit from the First Age.

“A-are you all right, sister?” asked Celegorm, supporting her against himself as he was the closest in height to her out of the six brothers.

“Change of plans. I need to get to the healing wings…I thought it was false labour pains again this morning…looks like I was wrong this time,” groaned Maedhros, trying to stand up straight despite the pain from the contractions. It would perhaps have been natural for the others to get slight panic or worrying over her words, but they had been expecting Maedhros' labour to start sooner or later under the past days.

“Tyelko, help Rog support her on the way to the healing wings. You others, inform the healers and midwives that Nelyo's labour has started. Get Elrond as well, I believe it would mean a lot for him to help deliver a child born from his former foster-aunt seeing that he missed Rûsa's birth simply for not being born at that time and little Lindë was in a notable hurry to come out in the world at her birth…” said Fëanor, taking change of the situation as he knew how it was to be around a woman in labour thanks to having made Nerdanel pregnant six times with their seven children.

“And for heaven's sake, get Rûsa to the healing wings' birth department as well! Family worries over his past as the Warg Rider or not, I will _not_ have my firstborn miss the birth of his younger sibling!” snapped Maedhros, mostly out of pain coming from a new and slightly stronger contraction.

“You boys heard your sister, get going, all of you!”  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

When Rûsa slowly woke up again, it had already turned into evening. He felt oddly frozen, as if a strange cold was inside his body. A look into the fireplace revealed why; the fire had gone out while he had slept.

“No wonder it is cold…”

But Rûsa had barely left the bed and went over the fireplace to start building up a new fire so it could be warmer in the chamber, before a rough knock sounded from the other side of the door.

“Rûsa, are you awake? Open the door right now, it is time to go to the healing wings! Your mother's labour from earlier this morning turned out to be real this time and not a false alarm!”

“For real!?”

Rûsa had not expected Fëanor to come and get him personally when his mother's labour started. Then again, they had made up several versions of a plan B in how to act when Maedhros' labour would start for real. And seeing that she had been having a couple of false alarms over the past two weeks, it really should not be such a big surprise that it finally had started.

“I am coming, just let me open the many locks…!”

Luckily, it did not take too long for Rûsa to move away his writing desk and open up the extra locks. Once he opened the door, Fëanor grabbed his wrist and dragged his younger grandson along down the stairs before Rûsa could protest. Not that he minded it this time, given why they were in such a hurry.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the healing wings' birth department, Elrond was gently scolding Maedhros for not telling them that her real labour had began that same morning.

“On the other hand, you would not the first mother to mistake it for a false alarm again until the contractions grew stronger.”

Maedhros was given a painkiller made from dried herbs mixed out in warm wine to hide the somewhat bitter flavour.

“Given that it is already evening and her labour has been going on since the morning, I would not be surprised if the baby is here soon,” said Nerdanel, who spoke from personal experience with her own six pregnancies. Maedhros drew a deep breath, the contractions had brought up the memory of giving birth to Rûsa in Angband, but strangely enough, she was not afraid for giving birth to this child. Perhaps it was thanks to that she was surrounded by her family, in a place meant for childbirth and having somewhat control over the situation.

“Nelyo, I have brought Rûsa.”

His uncles moved aside, so Rûsa could come over the bed where Maedhros were.

“Are things all right, ammë?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Just that this birth will go fast now when my contractions are in full power, the first birth is always the longest and hardest. Don't worry, they will not let anything happen to me or your still-unborn sibling,” answered Maedhros and touched his left cheek, with his V-shaped scar, to soothe her son. Rûsa smiled faintly as he placed his own hand over his mother's hand, he had calmed down from the earlier crying by now and felt somewhat more confident now that things would work out in the long run if they only could overcome the long road before that.  

“Is there something I can do?”

“Not what I know at the moment, sweetie, but I would be grateful enough in that you are around. You do not need to be just in this chamber, just somewhere outside so I know that you are not wandering around. After all, it would not do to miss that moment when your sibling arrives, right?”

Rûsa kissed Maedhros' hand in silent agreement over her words, before going out in the corridor and sitting down on a chair there.

“It will not be long now. I would guess somewhere before midnight,” said Rog while placing a blanket over his stepson for comfort during the wait. Mostly to help him pass some time, Rûsa was given a parchment for drawing and a quill with some ink as one of the twins took the task of keeping a eye on Rûsa from the door frame.  

“Russafinwë?”

At the sound of his mother-name, Rûsa looked up from his half-finished drawing of the heavy pregnant Maedhros as she had been looking under the past few days of her pregnancy. It was Fingolfin who had spoken. His great-uncle's grey eyes were filled with hesitation, and when Amrod made a movement to hurry to Rûsa's side Fingolfin quickly held up his hands with the palms up as a sign of that he did not wish to cause Rûsa harm.

“My father wishes for Rûsa to come to the small chapel in the southern part of the birth department.”

The strange order from Finwë was odd indeed, but as Finwë was the family patriarch of the royal family, it would be unwise to not obey. Especially now given what Maedhros had revealed about her son earlier.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Finwë was standing at the chapel's glass window where the Valar were depicted in coloured glass, his pale blue robes hiding the sword that he had gotten from Taurion earlier. Knowing the risk for a serious misunderstanding, he had chosen a spot where Maedhros could see him during the labour from the chamber where she soon would be giving birth.

“Atar.”

Fingolfin were not really touching Rûsa's shoulder, knowing that it might not be the best of movements right now. When they arrived to where Finwë stood, he took one step back to hold himself out of focus but still nearly enough if case something happened. In the background, they could hear Elrond say:

“ _It is almost time for her to start pushing, help her stand up on her knees and support her under the arms, just like that, yes. We will let gravity help in getting the baby out…_ ”

A weak groan in pain from Maedhros were heard. Rûsa would have turned around to see if his mother was all right, but Finwë's grey eyes held his own back eyes locked in a staring contest, not allowing him to look anywhere else.

“Russafinwë.”

Rûsa flinched at the unexpected cold tone that reminded him about what used to count as a last-minute warning for a coming punishment in Angband, and mentally felt the instinct to recoil when he saw the sword. Surely the High King did not mean to kill him the very moment that his mother delivered his younger half-sibling, to get rid of him because of that he was the Warg Rider? As Rûsa recoiled, he backed straight into Taurion.

“Easily there, Arion. He won't harm you, _ion nîn_.” he said in Avarin Sindarin to calm down Rûsa.

“ _Adar_ …” answered Rûsa in a hesitant voice, without moving his black eyes away from the sword in Finwë's hands.

“Russafinwë. To show your mother's words that you really are no longer the Warg Rider, I want you to prove it by swearing an oath of fealty to me as the High King of the Noldor and the Head of the House of Finwë,” commanded Finwë in a voice that allowed no arguments while holding out the sword against him. Swallowing, Rûsa tried from keep himself from shaking in half-hidden fear as he knelt in front of Finwë. Behind him, he heard Maedhros snap at one of her brothers for something minor because of the pain and an order from Nerdanel to her daughter to start pushing again. The sounds of his mother's struggle to bring her second child out in the living, acted like a lifeline for Rûsa and after some faint hesitance, he found the words:    

“ ** _I will to my lord, High-King Finwë of the Noldor, be true and faithful, and love all which he loves and shun all which he shuns, according to the laws of Eru Ilúvatar, the governance of the Valar, and the order of the world. Nor will I ever with will or action, through word or deed, do anything which is unpleasing to him, on condition that he will hold to me as I shall deserve it, and that he will perform everything as it was in our agreement when I submitted myself to him and chose his will_.** ”

In just the same moment that Rûsa finished saying the oath of fealty, a faint cry from a newborn was heard. The delivery was over. The newest member in the House of Fëanor had been born.

“ _Careful now, with both of them. Lower Nelyo carefully down on the bed…_ ” 

Feeling overwhelmed by an inner storm of various emotions at the sound of the baby's cries, Rûsa quickly let go of the sword and hurried up on his feet to run into the birth chamber. Neither Finwë or Taurion stopped him from leaving.

“Well done, sire. I trust that you and lord Fingolfin can tell the rest of the family about this?” Taurion said, smiling in a friendly way, yet his eyes said something notably different:

_Harm my youngest son now when he has sworn this oath of fealty and you will regret it!_

Finwë nodded, seeing clearly that Taurion and Rûsa indeed were father and son. How could he have missed the obvious similarities between them in the past? Then again, they had almost never been seen side by side when he was around, and Rûsa had taken somewhat more after Maedhros in appearance with the heart-shaped face Maedhros had inherited from Fëanor's mother Miriel and a slightly softer shape of the strong jaw that Finwë had passed down to all three of his sons and many of the grandchildren. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Elrond and the midwives had almost finished cleaning away all the signs of the birth when Rûsa entered. Maedhros looked very exhausted as she lay in bed to rest, but it was a pure joy in her grey eyes as she looked on the small bundle in her arms.

“Rûsa, come over here and greet your new sister,” offered Rog with the unmistakable pride of a newly-made father as he looked up. As Rûsa sat down on the edge of the bed at his mother's hips, he could see the infant very clearly; her skin colour was slightly lighter than her dark-skinned father and the tiny face were more towards her paternal grandparents, but the red hair obviously was Maedhros that she had inherited from Nerdanel and Mahtan, even if it was lighter in colour thanks to the genes to white hair that Rog had gotten from both of his parents. Brother and sister looked each other in the eyes. Slowly, Rûsa offered forwards one of his fingers and the baby took a steady hold of the finger with one unbelievably little fist. Rûsa smiled, already guessing what his sister would look like in a couple of years.

“Cúwen,” said Maedhros tenderly after seeing the crescent moon outside, thus giving her daughter the mother-name she would bear until that Rog would give her a father-name in twelve years as per Avarin customs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: We are heading towards the end of Sins of the Past, just one planned chapters left before I will start on the third and last part of the Rûsa-saga! The meaning of Cúwen can be found on realelvish dot net


	34. One in the family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a new life is starting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Esselya ___ ná means Your name is ___ in Quenya, so I thought that could fit in a welcoming or naming ceremony among royal Elves. Want to see how Saira might look like? Just remove the hyphens in this link ht-tp-:-//-mangafox-.-me-/-manga-/-princess-/-vTBD-/-c100-/14-.-ht-ml  
> The blonde girl at the bottom in the image is called Areah and I thought that a fully grown Saira would look precisely like her.

Soon little Cúwen yawned and fell asleep. After all, it is a long and exhausting work to be born, for both mother and child. Maedhros was also feeling the tiredness from the labour.

“I will join her in sleep for a couple of hours, I am really tired…”

Holding her daughter close to herself, Maedhros moved over to one side and the light in her grey eyes became duller in sleep. Even Rûsa felt tired despite that he had been sleeping for a couple of hours earlier, so he laid down on the bed so that he was facing his mother and sister. Smiling at the scene of his wife, stepson and newborn daughter sleeping together, Rog pulled a blanket over them.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Finwë and Fingolfin had returned to the rest of their families to tell the news about Rûsa's oath of fealty and the birth of Cúwen. However they were met from the door with some serious disagreement between Turgon and Fingon:

“I will _NOT_ accept that…that _illegitimate child of sin_ born from Nelyafinwë in Angband on Morgoth's orders, brother! Even if he was not the one to give you the killing blow, Findekáno, he still led you to the spot where Gothmog attacked you! And he was among the attackers on Gondolin as well!”

“And what indirectly caused our niece's involuntary betrayal of Gondolin in the first place? Little brother, for all of your good sides, you unfortunately have a bad habit of holding into old grudges and refusing to see things in a different light…”  

Turgon grabbed hold of the front on Fingon's tunic, clearly warning him from pushing his temper even more.

“My son, don't start fighting again with your siblings so soon after the earlier one where Maeglin stormed off, please!” ordered Anairë in a tired voice, smacking Turgon's hand with a fan to make him let go of Fingon and pushed her two older sons apart despite that she was looking very petite and delicate beside her tall and muscular husband and their sons. 

“What happened here?” wondered Fingolfin, looking between his two older sons.

“They started to disagree about Russafinwë…as you can hear, husband, our second-born son is still bitter over the loss of Gondolin…”

“It took fifty-two years to build Gondolin! 384 years of safety, all gone within a day when the attack come…!” protested Turgon, only to be silenced by Elenwë and Rilel by using Rilel's knitted shawl that she had been wearing against the winter cold.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Inside the guest chambers for the House of Finarfin:

“So…have we come to a agreement? That we do not need to accept or forgive Rûsa for his past deeds as the Warg Rider right away, but instead try over time as we get used to knowing who he once was and for now, welcome him to the family as we by right should have done at his birth if Nelyo had birthed him here in Aman?” asked Finarfin to his children and present grandchildren mostly to ensure that they really were in agreement.

“Yes, Atar.”

“Yes, Haru.”

Finarfin nodded, pleased to see that he and Finrod was not the only ones who thought that Rûsa should be given a second chance as a real member of the House of Finwë. After all, Rûsa could not help where or how he had been born. No doubt that he wished in silence for himself at times that he had been born in Aman as a lawful fruit of a true marriage that Maedhros could have been the wife of. After all, had not Rog mentioned a couple of times that he had planned to reveal himself as Maedhros' mysterious admirer already in the Years of the Trees but that the infamous sword accident between Fëanor and Fingolfin had happened just on that very same day as he had planned for the reveal?

“Good, it warms my heart to hear you agree on this. I was worried that you would let the past darken your feelings,” smiled Eärwen as she gave each one of her children a grateful hug.

“We can't change the past, ammë. And Nelyo did everything she could to heal the wounds that uncle Fëanor caused by burning the swanships…so…we should repair her attempts by helping her firstborn son and heir.”

There was no denial in those words. If they refused to welcome Rûsa as one in the family, then Morgoth would gain an unseen new victory over the Noldorin royal family because of that it was on his orders that Rûsa had been conceived by coercion in the first place. And that was not something that they wished to happen, not after the events in the First Age.  

“Ara? Your father has requested everyone to gather in his guest chamber.”

It was Indis, who had knocked on the door to see if it was someone inside.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It did not take long for Finwë's two younger sons to gather their families in his guest chamber. There, he told them of what had happened in the chapel right before Maedhros had given birth.

“A oath of fealty?!”

“Surely he was not too frightened by that, he looked ready to faint from terror in the meeting chamber before Nelyo revealed his past!”

“Was not that a little too…much as a request proof of that he has changed?” 

“It is too soon for something like that…”

Finwë held up a hand, requesting silence from them.

“He has sworn a oath of fealty to me as the High King of the Noldor with Ñolofinwë and Taurion as witness. He might be an young adolescent in body, but his mind is clearly that of a fully grown _ner_. I saw little fault in making him swear one in private now and I will have him make one officially on his coming-of-age ceremony in 35 years.”

Nobody protested that logic, but some of them all felt a common feeling of slight worry. Surely that would risk Rûsa to stress and feel like he still was not trusted by the royal family?

“During the wait for him to come of age, lets try and help him in secret, in whatever we can. Rûsa is still affected in so many ways by his life in Angband and I do not doubt that Nelyo has tried to shield him from the…more unpleasant side of Aman.”

They all shuddered at the memory of those horrible rumours that had surrounded Maedhros during the time that she had been a unwed mother, and then after her wedding to Rog. In most cases, they had managed to findthe original source of the rumours and could punish the guilty Elves for dishonouring a member of the royal family, but there was one particularly nasty scandalmonger that they never had managed catch so far; the Elf who had started the rumours that Rûsa was Maedhros' son by either her father Fëanor or one of her brothers, that Maedhros only had married Rog to cover the fact that she was offering her body to anyone who could pay for it and the rumours during the pregnancy that little Cúwen were not fathered by Rog at all.

“In that case, none of us faults her for doing so. It is already enough bad with what people used to say about our oldest uncle and his children after the First Age…” said Finrod sadly. It had been so horrible to hear what sort of negative things people said about his Fëanorian cousins and their father, especially when remembering how things had been back in the Years of the Trees. Turgon did not say anything, but the angry scowl on his face and crossed arms told them everything what he thought about all of this.   

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Over the next few days, the news about little Cúwen's birth was the reason for a joyful celebration that brought all of Formenos together. The fact that it now had happened two royal births here in fifteen years brought Formenos some extra status as a city among the Eldar.

“I just can't get enough of her…” said Rûsa with a honest smile most of the times he was caught sitting in the rocking chair inside the nursery and holding his sleeping sister in his arms. It seemed like Cúwen did agree with her older half-brother on that, for she always became quiet when she was held in someone's arms and seemed extra pleased whenever it was one of her parents or Rûsa who hold her.

“A quiet little lady, just what I need after all my noisy brothers!” laughed Maedhros with a tired smile at seeing her two children together. Her recovery after the birth went well, but like all infants, Cúwen requested her parents 24 hours a day. Not that Rûsa minded being a little neglected in favour for his baby sister for a while, he was a adult mentally and knew that Cúwen was dependent on the adults in her life, small as she was. And even if neither Medhros or Rog did always have the energy to do something with him, so did he also have a task of helping them whatever Maedhros could afford to sleep some extra and Cúwen simply wanted some attention outside being feed.

“I…remember my foster-mother in Angband saying at times that I was a rather fussy baby, as if I knew by instinct that she was not my real mother. She was very saddened over that the Dark Lords used her newborn daughter to trick you into believing that I had been killed, but knew that it was nothing she could do to change it despite the pain. I needed someone to nurse me and she gave me more than just that…”

Rûsa remembered how he had met her again in the Halls of Mandos. It had not been too long after that he and Maedhros had entered the Halls, and to be honest, Rûsa had been so young at her unexpected death in a premature birth that had ended up taking the life of both mother and child, that he first had not remembered her. But his foster-mother had forgiven him for that, saying that it was not his fault because of his young age when she died.

“Mm….waaaah!”

Cúwen brought Rûsa back to the present, mainly in loudly demanding some food since she was hungry after the nap.  

“Ah, sounds like it is time for some lunch for this young lady. And could you please get me some water in the meantime, Rûsa? I need something to drink.”

Nodding, Rûsa rose from the rocking chair. Taking her daughter from Rûsa, Maedhros took over the rocking chair and sat down for a while so she could feed Cúwen.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The next day, nine days after the birth, it was a official welcoming ceremony for Cúwen as per custom every time it was a new royal birth in Aman. In general, it was mostly a blessing of mother and child along with marking the royal infant's forehead with red henna in a triangle pointing upwards during the blessing of the child.

“…by the grace of Eru Ilúvatar, the All-Father; Esselya Cúwen ná.”

Like other royal infants that managed to stay awake during the ceremony that tended to be rather boring for so young Elflings, Cúwen was not too fond of being marked with the henna as it felt a little cold against her skin and she fussed a bit.

“Always the henna that they protest against…” muttered Maedhros with sympathy to Finwë as he was the one to mark the infant as per his rights as the High King of the Noldor, trying to soothe Cúwen before she started to wail in protest. Lucky, Cúwen calmed down at hearing her mother's voice. Outside of that, everything in the ceremony went well.

“It went far better than we first believed, I was a little worried since Cúwen was a bit fussy this morning…”

When Maedhros and her family were about to leave after the ceremony, Finwë asked them to wait for a moment.

“It is not only Cúwen that should be welcomed today. By all rights, this would have been done already in Years of the Trees 1498…” 

Rûsa felt tears starting to gather in his eyes when he realized what Finwë meant, but managed to keep himself together. Kneeling, Rûsa allowed the High king to mark his forehead with a henna triangle as well.

“…by the grace of Eru Ilúvatar, the All-Father; Esselya Russafinwë ná.”

With this ceremony, Rûsa officially became a member in the House of Finwë.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

But unknown to the Noldor royal family, enemies to the House of Fëanor were not so far away as they might be. A lone rider rode on a slippery mountain road deep inside the Pelóri, the mountain-fence of Aman. It was dangerous, especially now in winter with snow and ice on the road on which the horse could slip on, but he had news that he really needed to share with the others.

“Whoa! Easy, boy, easy.”

Dismounting, he choose to walk and lead the horse instead. It was one of the few horses that they still had, and they could not afford to lose any of the horses because of carelessness. Soon, he had finally arrived at his goal, a barely-seen cave that was guarded by two guards.

“My brothers, is our ammë home?” he called at seeing that it was two of his younger brothers who was standing on guard. They nodded at seeing who it was.

“She is inside the warmest part of the caves, no doubt spoiling our youngest brother again while we have to stay out here in the cold…”

All three of them snorted in dislike. Really, their youngest brother was already 65 years old and should be starting to work for his share of the food, not a little child! But no, that arrogant brat was the apple of their mother's eyes since she saw her three elder sons as failures, just because of that they had refused to avenge their father 53 years earlier.

“Then I guess that she will not like the news I bring…”

“Anything we does, never really pleases ammë unless our spoiled little brother claims it to be his work,” agreed one of his brothers. “Honestly, why can she not let go of the past…?”  

Thanking another _ner_ for taking the horse into the side cave that served as stable, the oldest brother entered the main cave.

 

A long tunnel was between the entrance and the inner caves that served as their home, a far cry from the luxurious mansion and famous vineyards that they once had owned before the family's fall from societal grace, all thanks to his father's ill-conceived plan to avenge his old humiliation before the whole royal court.

“Given our father's personal greed and wish for power, I can hardly blame princess Nelyafinwë for ending their relationship out of the blue when she saw his true colours…”

Finally, the eldest brother came to where his mother and younger brother was. Both wrapped into the thickest blankets and clothes that they owned, sitting in front of a fire to get more warmth despite that it was far warmer here in the cave than outside. 

“Lady mother, I have returned and I bring important news.” the oldest son said in greeting, giving two rabbits to another Elf on the way over to his mother. There he bowed for his mother, an etiquette more or less harshly taught to Noldorin noble sons since toddlerhood, despite the fact that legally, he was head of this exiled family since his father's death.

“Has the High King finally come to his senses and revoked his orders about our unlawful exile, so we will be able to return home to Tirion? Really, that uncontrollable son from his first queen and those Kinslaying brats of his should not be worth the honor of rebirth…and that damned Fëanorian princess had the nerve of showing up in Tirion with that…that cursed _bastard son_ of hers! Acting as if he was the fruit of a lawful marriage, ha! As if she could hide the fact that there was no marriage ring on her finger, or how ill-bred that brat was! Going there and claim that my honourable husband Nárion was the culprit to their poisoning when it really was just a acting to get sympathy!”

Oh great, she was nagging again about how unfair the Noldorin High King and the Valar had been towards their family, twisting the truth into suit her narrow-minded version of the events, her oldest son thought sourly before speaking:

“I am afraid not, lady mother. Rather, the news that I bring is that…”

And of course, she interrupted him before he could say the news that he brought.

“ _WHAT?!_   How can they not allow us to return after these long, horrible years in exile?!”

This was not a good sigh. He needed to reveal the news before she went into a rant about how unfair life had been to them ever since that Midsummer Eve evening when the House of Fëanor had gotten poisoned.

“Mother, the news I bring is that… _nine days ago, princess Nelyafinwë gave birth. To a daughter._ If the Crown prince still insists on that the Fëanorian princess is his Heir, then this means that this newborn little princess is fifth in line to the kingship of the Noldor after her older brother, prince Russafinwë Nelyafinwion.”

Too late did he realize the mistake in telling his mother the gender of Maedhros' new child. It was a pure look of greed and lust for power in her eyes as she glared over on her fourth and youngest son, who simply looked bored at the news about the royal birth. The kind of look she had worn whenever she had tried to hook princess Maeglin from the House of Fingolfin as wife to one of her three oldest sons or trying to betroth her youngest son to princess Saira from the House of Finarfin in order to marry into the Noldorin royal family.

“It looks…like we just found a far more higher-ranked future wife to my baby boy. And it would be a perfect revenge against that ill-bred, lying little baseborn child of sin, who princess Nelyafinwë has the nerve of calling her firstborn son and legal heir, to have his little sister married to the youngest son of my honourable husband Nárion.”

 

To be continued…


End file.
